A Line Comes Into Being. It Goes

One Does Not Lash Hat Lies At A Distance. The Foibles That We Ridicule Must At Least Be A Little Bit Our Own. Only Then Will The Work Be A Part Of Our Own Flesh. The Garden Must Be Weeded.

Art Does Not Reflect What Is Seen, Rather It Makes The Hidden Visible.

Colour Has Taken Hold Of Me; No Longer Do I Have To Chase After It. I Know That It Has Hold Of Me Forever. That Is The Significance Of This Blessed Moment

One Day I Will Lie Nowhere With An Angel At My Side.

All Is Well With Me. The Rain Doesn't Reach Me, My Room Is Well Heated, What More Can One Ask For? There's No Shortage Of Work, Either.