When two close kindred meet What better than call a dance?.

The years like great black oxen tread the world, and God, the herdsman goads them on behind, and I am broken by their passing feet.

We had fed the heart on fantasies, The heart's grown brutal from the fare, More substance in our enmities Than in our love

Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.

Land of Heart's Desire Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.

We only believe in those thoughts which have been conceived not in the brain but in the whole body.

Whatever flames upon the night Man's own resinous heart has fed.