Even If The Last Move Did Not

I Credit Poetry For Making This Space-walk Possible.

Once I Was On The Job, Once I Had Got Started, I Felt Safe Enough, But The Anticipation Made Me Tense.

The Gift Of Writing Is To Be Self-forgetful... To Get A Surge Of Inner Life Or Inner Supply Or Unexpected Sense Of Empowerment, To Be Afloat, To Be Out Of Yourself.

The End Of Art Is Peace.

Whether It Be A Matter Of Personal Relations Within A Marriage Or Political Initiatives Within A Peace Process, There Is No Sure-fire Do-it-yourself Kit.