A forgotten poem...

Where to now, Morgan Le Fey?
Have I become Parcifal lost on his Way?
Or have you exiled me from Avalon's shores?
When, then, Moonlit Queen, do I find it?
Or in the Chapel Perilous do I simply quit?
In the Halls of Annwn my madness breeds sweet release.

What lies behind the Mask?

"Hark ye yet again— the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event— in the living act, the undoubted deed— there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall?"

~ Herman Melville, Moby Dick

Behind My Mannikins...

"Under the skies, on the roads, in the towns, in the woods, in the hills, in the plains, by the shores, on the seas, behind my mannikins, I was not always sad, I wasted time, abjured my rights, suffered for nothing, forgot my lesson. Then a little hell after my own heart, not too cruel, with a few nice damned to foist my groans on, something sighing off and on and the distant gleams of pity’s fires biding their hour to promote us to ashes."

~ Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable