A Named Thing Is A Tamed Thing.

I Am Not At All A Chocoholic. I Would Rather Eat Anchovy Toast.

I Think Everybody Has A Secret Life.

Places Do Not Lose Their Identity, However Far One Travels. It Is The Heart That Begins To Erode Over Time. The Face In The Hotel Mirror Seems Blurred Some Mornings, As If By Too Many Casual Looks. By Ten The Sheets Will Be Laundered, The Carpet Swept. The Names On The Hotel Registers Change As We Pass. We Leave No Trace As We Pass On. Ghostlike, We Cast No Shadow.

I'm Not Sure I Believe In The Whole 'ghost-afterlife' Thing, But I Think Places Are Marked By People Who Have Been There.

Anything Based On Ancient Texts Is Difficult For A Modern Reader To Get Their Head Around.