A World Of Made Is Not A

There Are Certain Things In Which One Is Unable To Believe For The Simple Reason That He Never Ceases To Feel Them. Things Of This Sort - Things Which Are Always Inside Of Us And In Fact Are Us And Which Consequently Will Not Be Pushed Off Or Away Where We Can Begin Thinking About Them - Are No Longer Things; They, And The Us Which They Are, Equals A Verb; An Is.

Tomorrow Is Our Permanent Address.

Unlove's The Heavenless Hell And The Homeless Home.

All Ignorance Toboggans Into Know And Trudges Up To Ignorance Again.

For Whatever We Lose (like A You Or A Me), It's Always Our Self We Find In The Sea.