We Shake With Joy, We Shake With

Be Good-natured And Untidy In Your Exuberance.

What Can We Do But Keep On Breathing In And Out, Modest And Willing, And In Our Places?

All Eternity Is In The Moment.

Language Is, In Other Words, Not Necessary, But Voluntary. If It Were Necessary, It Would Have Stayed Simple; It Would Not Agitate Our Hearts With Ever-present Loveliness And Ever-cresting Ambiguity; It Would Not Dream, On Its Long White Bones, Of Turning Into Song.

The Sea Isn't A Place But A Fact, And A Mystery.