Create, Artist, Do Not Talk.

We Are So Constituted That We Believe The Most Incredible Things; And, Once They Are Engraved Upon The Memory, Woe To Him Who Would Endeavor To Erase Them.

In The End We Are All Separate: Our Stories, No Matter How Similar, Come To A Fork And Diverge. We Are Drawn To Each Other Because Of Our Similarities, But It Is Our Differences We Must Learn To Respect.

Self-love Exaggerates Our Faults As Well As Our Virtues.

The Soul Of Man Is Like To Water; From Heaven It Cometh, To Heaven It Riseth And Then Returning To Earth, Forever Alternating.

One Usually Thinks People To Be More Dangerous Than They Are.