Children picking up our bones Will never know that these were once As quick as foxes on the hill.

Throw away the light, the definitions, and say what you see in the dark.

The exceeding brightness of this early sun Makes me conceive how dark I have become.

Yet there is no spring in Florida, neither in boskage perdu, nor on the nunnery beaches.

Life is the elimination of what is dead.

Thought tends to collect in pools.

To live in the world but outside of existing conceptions of it.