Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, every poem an epitaph.

The True Church can never fail. For it is based upon a rock.

Where there is no temple there shall be no homes.

Art serves us best precisely at that point where it can shift our sense of what is possible, when we know more than we knew before, when we feel we have - by some manner of a leap - encountered the truth. That, by the logic of art, is always worth the pain.

I suspect that in our loathing of totalitarianism, there is infused a good deal of admiration for its efficiency.

Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall My buried life, and Paris in the spring, I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world To be wonderful and youthful afterall

Words strain, Crack and sometimes break, under the burden, Under the tension, slip, slide, perish, Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place, Will not stay still.