Travelling carries me to the surface, away from the deeps of home-thoughts.
Jargon is part ceremonial robe, part false beard.
The nudes of art are not so distant from pornography as prudish pedants pretend.
The harp is an insipid instrument--no good for dancing, feasting, or marching, only for sitting primly in a parlor or on a cloud.
We do justice coldly, injustice hotly.
If the world would apologize, I might consider a reconciliation.