Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake. - Wallace Stevens

The imagination is the power that enables us to perceive the normal in the abnormal, the opposite of chaos in chaos.

I heard them cry — the peacocks. Was it a cry against the twilight Or against the leaves themselves Turning in the wind, Turning as the flames Turned in the fire, Turning as the tails of the peacocks Turned in the loud fire, Loud as the hemlocks Full of the cry of the peacocks? Or was it a cry against the hemlocks?

This was their ceremonial hymn: Anon We loved but would no marriage make. Anon The one refused the other one to take,<p> Foreswore the sipping of the marriage wine.