Victorian font to monochrome your soft lines
I use fingers like thumb smudging charcoal sketch
Proportion faithful kept, for the ambidexterity of light to dark, the binocular impression yours makes.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out
against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of resdess nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question . . .
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed—On through the watching for that early birth—–When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,—The sturdy seedling with arched body comes—–Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs. Robert Frost
As through a punch through tempered steel, lady, lady mark my words
There is no
linen venue prepared
for the soiling
Wild Nights — Wild Nights!
Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury!
Futile — the Winds —To a Heart in port —Done with the Compass —Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden —Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor — Tonight —In Thee!
Whenever a dissipative map translates a volume of state space completely inside itself, we know immediatelythat an attractor exists without knowing what it looks like.
‘Tis Paradise. In such an hour
Some pangs that rend might take release.
Nor less perturbed who keeps this bower
Of balm, nor finds balsamic peace?
From whom the passionate words in vent
After long revery’s discontent? melville
And ferrous flesh will glow
On our imaginary downward voyage to ever smaller domains, after reaching the size of a single proton, we would have to gotwenty powers of 10 further to reach the Planck length. Only then would the glassy smooth spacetime of theatomic and particle worlds give way to the roiling chaos of weird space‐ time geometries. The wormhole would be but one simple manifestation of the distortions that could occur. So great would be the fluctuations thatthere would literally be no left and right, no before andno after. Ordinary ideas of length would disappear.Ordinary ideas of time would evaporate. I can think of nobetter name than quantum foam for this state of affairs.
GEONS,BLACK HOLES,AND QUANTUM FOAM
The highest purpose is to have no purpose at all. This puts one in accord with nature, in her manner of operation.
Orbs give me semi–fore