“I was weeping again, drunk on the impossible past.”

“The weeping of the guitar begins. The goblets of dawn are smashed. The weeping of the guitar begins. Useless to silence it. Impossible to silence it. It weeps monotonously as water weeps as the wind weeps over snowfields. Impossible to silence it. It weeps for distant things. Hot southern sands yearning for white camellias. Weeps arrow without target evening without morning and the first dead bird on the branch. Oh, guitar! Heart mortally wounded by five swords.”

“Fear not for the future, weep not for the past”

“O do not weep, she says,for ages past I wasand I endure”

“He believes, but he does not believe: the impossibility of believing is the impossibility which he accepts most reluctantly, but still it is there with the other impossibilities of this world which is too full of weeping for a child to understand.”

“O shut the door! and when thou hast done so,Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!”