no more pain. wake no more. nobody owns - James Joyce

Love (understood as the desire of good for another) is in fact so unnatural a phenomenon that it can scarcely repeat itself, the soul being unable to become virgin again and not having energy enough to cast itself out again into the ocean of another's soul.

The pity is the public will demand and find a moral in my book — or worse they may take it in some more serious way, and on the honor of a gentleman, there is not one single serious line in it.

When the moon of mourning is set and gone.
Over Glinaduna.
Lonu nula.
Ourselves, oursouls alone.
At the site of salvocean.
And watch would the letter you’re wanting be coming may be.
And cast ashore.