Beautiful December Grapes, Blue As Plums, Every

At Sixty-three Years Of Age, Less A Quarter, One Still Has Plans.

Truffles Must Come To The Table In Their Own Stock And As You Break Open This Jewel Sprung From A Poverty-stricken Soil, Imagine - If You Have Never Visited It - The Desolate Kingdom Where It Rules.

By An Image We Hold On To Our Lost Treasures, But It Is The Wrenching Loss That Forms The Image, Composes, Binds The Bouquet.

Never Touch A Butterfly's Wing With Your Finger.

Don't Cudgel Your Brains Over My Little Problems.