And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness.

O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark, The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant

Shall I part my hair behind Do I dare to eat a peach I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be: am an attendant lord, one that will do to swell a progress, start a scene or two, advise the prince.

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity.

Between the conception and the creation, between the emotion and the response, Falls the shadow.