Who Can Tell What Metals The Gods

The Bird That Would Soar Above The Level Plain Of Tradition And Prejudice Must Have Strong Wings. It Is A Sad Spectacle To See The Weaklings Bruised, Exhausted, Fluttering Back To Earth.

I Should Never Deem A Man Of Ordinary Caliber Worthy Of My Devotion.

Well, For Instance, When I Left Her Today, She Put Her Arms Around Me And Felt My Shoulder Blades, To See If My Wings Were Strong, She Said.

She Turned Her Face Seaward To Gather In An Impression Of Space And Solitude, Which The Vast Expanse Of Water, Meeting And Melting With The Moonlit Sky, Conveyed To Her Excited Fancy. As She Swam She Seemed To Be Reaching Out For The Unlimited In Which To Lose Herself.

The Delicious Breath Of Rain Was In The Air.