A god who is both self-sufficient and content to remain so could not interest us enough to raise the question of his existence. - W. H. Auden

Like love we don't know where or why
Like love we cant compel or fly
Like Love we often weep
Like Love we seldom keep

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Look, stranger, on this island now The leaping light for your delight discovers, Stand stable here And silent be, That through the channels of the ear May wander like a river The swaying sound of the sea.