“Why not admit that other people are always Organic to the self, that a monologue Is the death of language and that a single lion Is less himself, or alive, than a dog and another dog? With vision but it is vision builds the eye; And in a sense the children kill their parents But do the parents die? And the beloved destroys like fire or water But water sculpts and fire refines And if you are going to read the testaments of cynics You must read between the lines.” PoetryPoemIrelandIrish PoetIrish PoetryLouis MacneiceMacneice Book:Autumn Journal Source: Autumn Journal