Hate: return to sender; address unknown.

The true poem rests between the words.

Ridicule has historically proven itself a rickety fence for great ideas.

The greatest justice in life is to be who one is.

Is it a form of social play that underneath the words people say, there is a different conversation going on?

Because I had goodwill for all, I thought all were my friends. And then I learned of treachery, that some preferred my end. It wasn't the goodwill I felt that made someone a friend. What handy day, the one I learned the meaning of the word. How good to know my enemies (though their reasons are absurd!)

To paraphrase the great poet Dante, the heavens swirl above us and our eyes are still cast to the ground.