Pain always produces logic, which is very bad for you.

life perpetuated in parti-colored loves and beautiful lies all in different languages.

I loved her fright, which was against me into the air! and the diamond white of her forelock which seemed to smart with thoughts as my heart smarted with life! and she'd toss her head with the pain and paw the air and champ the bit, as if I were Endymion and she, moon-like, hated to love me.

Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don't I? I'm just like a pile of leaves.

Oh! kangaroos, sequins, chocolate sodas! / You really are beautiful! Pearls, / harmonicas, jujubes, aspirins!

It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so. I admire you, beloved, for the trap you've set. It's like a final chapter no one reads because the plot is over.

And always embrace things, people earth sky stars, as I do, freely and with the appropriate sense of space.