When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

I did not believe that a Cause which stood for a beautiful ideal, for anarchism, for release and freedom from convention and prejudice, should demand the denial of life and joy. I insisted that our Cause could not expect me to become a nun and that the movement would not be turned into a cloister. If it meant that, I did not want it.

And maps can really point to placesWhere life is evil now:Nanking. Dachau.

The enlightenment driven away,The habit-forming pain,Mismanagement and grief:We must suffer them all again.

LIfe is just a game of chance, a dance with fate if you let it be so. Or you could chose to play by your rules to win.

Evil is unspectacular and always human,And shares our bed and eats at our own table ....