None Of Us Suffers As Much As

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

When One Wants To Become Cognizant Of The Color And The Texture Of The Soil, One Does Not Get A Ladder; One Gets A Shovel. When One Wants To Get Into Touch With The Texture Of The Universal Mind, One Does Not Go To Boston; One Goes To The Bowery.

Matthew,' She Said, 'have You Ever Loved Someone And It Became Yourself?' For A Moment He Did Not Answer. Taking Up The Decanter He Held It To The Light. 'robin Can Go Anywhere, Do Anything,' Nora Continued, 'because She Forgets, And I Nowhere Because I Remember.' She Came Toward Him. 'matthew,' She Said, 'you Think I Have Always Been Like This. Once I Was Remorseless, But This Is Another Love — It Goes Everywhere; There Is No Place For It To Stop — It Rots Me Away.

Youth Is Cause, Effect Is Age; So With The Thickening Of The Neck We Get Data.

When Autumn Shadows Throw Their Patterns Across The Land, They Are Not The Images Of Fragile, Dying Leaves, Not The Bared Arms Of Lofty Elms, Not Shadows Of A Fading Summer; But Swinging Shapes As Of Books Upon A Strap, Of Round And Square Boxes Held Under An Arm, Of Hurrying Little People Heading Towards The Nearest School.