Is there not An art, a music, and a stream of words That shalt be life, the acknowledged voice of life?

Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, Mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there One of a mighty multitude whose …

Not Chaos, not The darkest pit of lowest Erebus, Nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out By help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe As fall upon us ofte…

But an old age serene and bright, And lovely as a Lapland night, Shall lead thee to thy grave.

'For me, music and life are all about style.'

Sometimes it is hard to criticize, one wants only to chronicle. The good and mediocre books come in from week to week, and I put them aside and read them and t…

So, ungentle reader, (as you and I value what we should ashamed-after witnessing a few minor circus-marvels-to call our 'lives,') let us never be fooled into t…