i have often attributed my attachment to, my passionate enthusiasm for, the dangerous mysteries of the ocean to that production of most imaginative of modern poets.*
these attachments not only fiction, but also the creation of, dreams conjured up by the adoration with natural beauty.
my affiliation with the discovery and realization of, said thoughts in literature has brought the conclusion up that, if indeed such beauty does exist in other forms than on these pages and in my film casings, than it must be in the eyes of love.
*exert from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.
This was a writing exercise i did.