How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.

God bless the roots! Body and soul are one.

I have gone into the waste lonely places

O Lord, may I never want to look good. O Jesus, may I always read it all: out loud and the very way it should be. May I never look at the other findings until I have come to my own true conclusions: May I care for the least of the young: and become aware of the one poem that each may have written; may I be aware of what each thing is, delighted with form, and wary of the false comparison; may I never use the word "brilliant."

Should we say the self, once perceived, becomes the soul?

Love begets love. This torment is my joy.

Art is our defense against hysteria and death.