Home Is Where The Heart Is And

The End Of Exile Is The End Of Being.

I Had The Brief Notion That His Heart, Pressed Flat As A Flower, Crimson And Thin As Tissue Paper, Lay In This File. It Was A Very Thin One.

I Will Tell You What Jeanne Was Like. She Was Like A Piano In A Country Where Everyone Has Had Their Hands Cut Off.

I Desire Therefore I Exist.

I Am Entirely Alone. I And My Shadow Fill The Universe.