Birth Was The Death Of Him.

For In Me There Have Always Been Two Fools, Among Others, One Asking Nothing Better Than To Stay Where He Is And The Other Imagining That Life Might Be Slightly Less Horrible A Little Further On.

Yesterday Is Not A Milestone That Has Been Passed, But A Daystone On The Beaten Track Of The Years, And Irremediably Part Of Us, Within Us, Heavy And Dangerous. We Are Not Merely More Weary Because Of Yesterday, We Are Other, No Longer What We Were Before The Calamity Of Yesterday.

God Is Love. Yes Or No? No.

God Is A Witness That Cannot Be Sworn.

Name, No, Nothing Is Nameable, Tell, No, Nothing Can Be Told, What Then, I Don't Know, I Shouldn't Have Begun.