Life Is Long Between The Desire And

War Is Not A Life: It Is A Situation, One Which May Neither Be Ignored Nor Accepted.

Simple And Faithless As A Smile And Shake Of The Hand.

History May Be Servitude. History May Be Freedom. See, Now They Vanish. The Faces And Places, With The Self Which, As It Could, Loved Them, To Become Renewed, Transfigured, In Another Pattern.

Every Phrase And Every Sentence Is An End And A Beginning, Every Poem An Epitaph.

The Historical Sense Involves A Perception, Not Only Of The Pastness Of The Past, But Of Its Presence