Do We Always Make Our Freedom Out

A Body Without Bones Would Be A Limp Impossible Mess, So A Day Without Steady Routine Would Be Disruptive And Chaotic.

There The Door Is Always Open Into The “holy” — Growth, Birth, Death.

She Became For Me An Island Of Light, Fun, Wisdom Where I Could Run With My Discoveries And Torments And Hopes At Any Time Of Day And Find Welcome.

Most People Have To Talk So They Won't Hear.

If Art Is Not To Be Life-enhancing, What Is It To Be?