There is something about the present which we would not exchange, though we were offered a choice of all past ages to live in.

Different though the sexes are, they inter-mix. In every human being a vacillation from one sex to the other takes place, and often it is only the clothes that keep the male or female likeness, while underneath the sex is very opposite of what it is above.

for it was not knowledge but unity that she desired, not inscriptions on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself, which is knowledge

And the poem, I think, is only your voice speaking.

What is the meaning of life? That was all- a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years, the great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one.

Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost.

For the young people could not talk. And why should they? Shout, embrace, swing, be up at dawn.