I've Seen Death And I Didn't Like

Yes, We Who Are Full To The Gorge With Misery Should Look Well Around, Doubting Everything Seen, Done, Spoken, Precisely Because We Have A Word For It, And Not Its Alchemy

We Are But Skin About A Wind, With Muscles Clenched Against Mortality.

Love Becomes The Deposit Of The Heart, Analogous In All Degrees To The 'findings' In A Tomb. As In One Will Be Charted The Taken Place Of The Body, The Raiment, The Utensils Necessary To Its Other Life, So In The Heart Of The Lover Will Be Traced, As An Indelible Shadow, That Which He Loves.

No One Will Be Much Or Little Except In Someone Else's Mind, So Be Careful Of The Minds You Get Into.

The Night Is A Skin Pulled Over The Head Of Day That The Day May Be In Torment.