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Tole ne bo dolg in filozofski post, čeprav bi zelo rad bil, pa mu kopica nepredelanih zapiskov (in kadar rečem kopica, mislim skladovnico knjig, a se kopica bolj prijazno sliši) ne dovoli, da bi zrastel. Mogoče nekoč, ko še izkopljem neko svoje čečkanje z istim naslovom, za zdaj naj zadostuje le pesem, prejle tako močno priklicana iz podzavesti, da jo preprosto moram nekam napisati:

I Died For Beauty

I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth - the two are one; We brethren are," he said. And so, as kinsmen met a-night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names. Emily Dickinson