To The Lover The Loved One Always

We Have Long Forgotten The Ritual By Which The House Of Our Life Was Erected. But When It Is Under Assault And Enemy Bombs Are Already Taking Their Toll, What Enervated, Perverse Antiquities Do They Not Lay Bare In The Foundations.

In The Fields With Which We Are Concerned, Knowledge Comes Only In Flashes. The Text Is The Thunder Rolling Long Afterward.

Allegories Are, In The Realm Of Thought, What Ruins Are In The Realm Of Things.

Ownership Is The Most Intimate Relationship That One Can Have To Objects. Not That They Come Alive In Him; It Is He Who Lives In Them.

Like Ultraviolet Rays Memory Shows To Each Man In The Book Of Life A Script That Invisibly And Prophetically Glosses The Text.