I Had A Little Sorrow, Born Of

I Only Know That Summer Sang In Me A Little While, That In Me Sings No More.

Earth Does Not Understand Her Child, Who From The Loud Gregarious Town Returns, Depleted And Defiled, To The Still Woods, To Fling Him Down.

I Love Humanity But I Hate People.

A Grave Is Such A Quiet Place.

The Young Are So Old, They Are Born With Their Fingers Crossed.