Death is the only pure, beautiful conclusion of a great passion.

And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale-tender young and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of the beginning and the end.

There's always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street.

In the window full of sunlight / Concentrates her golden shadow / Fold on fold, until it glows as / Mellow as the glory roses.

When she rises in the morning / I linger to watch her / She spreads the bath-cloth underneath the window / And the sunbeams catch her / Glistening white on the shoulders / While down her sides the mellow

The elephant, the huge old beast, is slow to mate; / He finds a female, they show no haste they wait.

But her hands are still the woman, the large, strong hands / Heavier than mine, yet like leverets caught in steel / When I hold them; my still soul understands / Their dumb confession of what her sort must feel.

If you make a revolution, make it for fun, / don't make it in ghastly seriousness, / don't do it in deadly earnest, / do it for fun.

Work can be fun, and men can enjoy it; then it's not labour. / Let's have it so! Let's make a revolution for fun!

All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, wake in the morning to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people, For they dream their dreams with open eyes, and make them come true.