You think the world is wrong--- which is right, you are supposed to think the world is wrong--- because virtue is invisible. Anxiety tortures you and you ignore it. As Edgar Poe and T.S. Eliot described the superior poet, escaping emotion is art. We need the beautiful stoic. Yes, truly, virtue is invisible. Virtue's courage doesn't make a sound. They would be virtuous if they came around. They would find it here if they came here, quietly standing its ground. Their virtue, when displayed, gets more and more insane. What is this parade, parading on the train? Poetry held the hyacinths. Poetry made it plain. What weather forecast is this, forbidding all the rain? They want their virtue recorded, but this is not where virtue is supposed to go. In Lincoln it remained hidden. All the mother can say: "I know, I know, I know."