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May 09, 2007 16:19


Works of art are of an infinite loneliness and with nothing to be so little reached as with criticism.  Only love can grasp and hold and fairly judge them.

-Rainer Maira Rilke

so many selves(so many fiends and gods
each greedier then every)is a man
(so easily one is another hides;
yet man can,being all,escape from none)

so huge a tumult is the simplest wish:
so pitiless a massacre the hope
most innocent(so deep's the mind of flesh
and so awake what waking calls asleep)

so never is most lonely man alone
(his briefest breathing lives some planet's year,
his longest life's a heartbeat of some sun;
his least unmotion roams the youngest star)

-how should a fool that calls him "I" presume
to comprehend not numerable whom?

- e e cummings
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