It is true that there is not enough beauty in the world. It is also true that I am not competent to restore it. Neither is there candor, and here I may be of some use.
said the world. I was standing in my wool coat at a kind of bright portal— I can finally say ; it gives me considerable pleasure. Beauty the healer, the teacher— death cannot harm me more than you have harmed me, my beloved life.
Once I could imagine my soul I could imagine my death. When I imagined my death my soul died. This I remember clearly. My body persisted. Not thrived, but persisted. Why I do not know.
