My weaknesses are less remarkable than
all the things I have at one time or another
imagined were my strengths.
Not to enchant but an unnamed need for order, for rhythm, for form, which three words are opposed to chaos and nothingness. --Czeslaw Milosz
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. Admirer as I think I am Of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time.