All Recurring Joy Is Pain Refined.

May Is Much Sunshine Through Small Leaves.

Sexual Love Is The Most Stupendous Fact Of The Universe, And The Most Magical Mystery Our Poor Blind Senses Know.

I Know That A Creed Is The Shell Of A Lie.

Witches Are Moon-birds, Witches Are The Women Of The False, Beautiful Moon.

When I Go Away From You The World Beats Dead Like A Slackened Drum.