Ants In The House Seem To Be,

When A Wave Of Love Takes Over A Human Being... Such An Exaltation Takes Him That He Knows He Has Put His Finger On The Pulse Of The Great Secret And The Great Answer.

She Lives A Sophisticate's Life Among Worldly People. At The Slightest Excuse She Steps Out Of Civilization, Naked And Relieved, As I Should Step Out Of A Soiled Chemise.

But To Make The Intangible Tangible, To Pick The Emotion Out Of The Air And Make It True For Others, Is Both The Blessing And The Curse Of The Writer, For The Thing Between Book Covers Is Never As Beautiful As The Thing He Imagined.

The Individual Man Is Transitory, But The Pulse Of Life And Of Growth Goes On After He Is Gone, Buried Under A Wreath Of Magnolia Leaves.

Lives Are Only One With Living. How Dare We, In Our Egos, Claim Catastrophe In The Rise And Fall Of The Individual Entity? There Is Only Life, And We Are Beads Strung On Its Strong And Endless Thread.