Words incompass the entirety of my existence, and there are a few great writers who give meaning to life. Most important would have to be Dante. His Divine Comedie must be the most perfect example of poetry to ever be recorded, and puts to shame not only his early work, but even that of Master Virgil. Ah, Rilke. I connect with him so strongly, and find my days incomplete without reading at least a few words daily from his Book of Images, or Duino Elegies. Hesse because he gave us such pecious beauty, and was able to capture our great anxiety. Shakespeare, because the English Language would be much less dear without him. Fyodr Dostoesky's characters have such incredible depth, and his stories fully absorb me. Derrick Jense's the Story of Make Believe is the scariest book I've ever read. The Elegant Universe by Brian Greene. This is the stuff of Dreams and Reality. Oscar Wilde. The Ballad of Reading Gaol has that stickiness in the brain and just won't leave. Besides wouldn't it be great to be Dorian Grey. The Art of Arts by Anita Albus, beacuse art history texts so seldom become art, yet she excels. Her words carry one through the book, and she still remains a critical, objective authority throughout. How could I fail to mention Keats, or Logfellow, William Blake, and Wordsworth. Alfred Lord Tennyson. Robert Browning. Edwin Muir, and Yeats. And Baudelaire. I could never do without Baudelaire. Dylan Thomas, Emily Dickenson. Li-Young Lee gave his breath to us. He gave it slowly, and with such great care it gained a quiet intensity. Sylvia Plath, E.E. Cummings, Lanston Hughes. So many,many more that this small list could not encompass. So many beautiful, painful, and mooving words.