Love! Hate! Is There No Third?

The Plot! The Plot! What Kind Of Plot Could A Poet Possibly Provide That Is Not Surpassed By The Thinking, Feeling Reader? Form Alone Is Divine.

I Cannot Be Exacting Because I Respect Myself.

Love! Hate! Is There No Third?

Plato Calls Complacency The Companion Of Loneliness.

When Mundane, Lowly Activities Are At Stake, Too Much Insight Is Detrimental — Far-sightedness Errs In Immediate Concerns.