A Taste Older Than Meat, Older Than

These Are The Moments Which Are Not Calculable, And Cannot Be Assessed In Words; They Live On In The Solution Of Memory, Like Wonderful Creatures, Unique Of Their Own Kind, Dredged Up From The Floors Of Some Unexplored Ocean.

Poverty Is A Great Cutter-off And Riches A Great Shutter-off.

Whatever The Heart Desires, It Purchases At The Cost Of Soul

I Am Quite Alone. I Am Neither Happy Nor Unhappy; I Lie Suspended Like A Hair Or A Feather In The Cloudy Mixtures Of Memory.

What Are Stars But Points In The Body Of God Where We Insert The Healing Needles Of Our Terror And Longing?