It must be this rhapsody or none, The rhapsody of things as they are.
Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.
Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.
Next to love is the desire for love.
in the presence of extraordinary actuality, consciousness takes the place of imagination.
Life is an affair of people not of places. But for me, life is an affair of places and that is the trouble.