I Defer To All These Other American

Atlantis Will Rise Again.

Dead, Hung Up Indoors, The Kingfisher Will Not Indicate A Favoring Wind, Or Avert The Thunderbolt.

One Loves Only Form, And Form Only Comes Into Existence When The Thing Is Born.

My Life Has Been Given Its Orders: The Seasons Seize The Soul And The Body, And Make Mock Of Any Dispersed Effort. The Hour Of Death Is The Only Trespass

You Can Do Anything, Really. And That, L Think, Is One Of The Exciting Possibilities Of The Present, L Swear, Is The Possibility That The Goddamn Thing Can Be Modaled Throughout.