All My Life, My Heart Has Yearned

When Will The Arbitrary Be Granted The Place It Deserves In The Formation Of Works And Ideas?

We All Love Conflagrations. When The Sky Changes Color, It Is A Dead Man's Passing.

...with The End Of My Breath, Which Is The Beginning Of Yours.

May Night Continue To Fall Upon The Orchestra

To See, To Hear, Means Nothing. To Recognize (or Not To Recognize) Means Everything. Between What I Do Recognize And What I Do Not Recognize There Stands Myself. And What I Do Not Recognize I Shall Continue Not To Recognize.