Art Is Our Defense Against Hysteria And

All Lovers Live By Longing, And Endure: Summon A Vision And Declare It Pure.

Long Live The Weeds That Overwhelm My Narrow Vegetable Realm! The Bitter Rock, The Barren Soil That Force The Son Of Man To Toil; All Things Unholy, Marred By Curse, The Ugly Of The Universe.

Being, Not Doing, Is My First Joy.

I Am Overwhelmed By The Beautiful Disorder Of Poetry, The Eternal Virginity Of Words.

May My Silences Become More Accurate.