I Am A Cage, In Search Of

The Bible Is A Sanctum; The World, Sputum.

I Cannot Make You Understand. I Cannot Make Anyone Understand What Is Happening Inside Me. I Cannot Even Explain It To Myself.

Torment Yourself As Little As Possible, Then You'll Torment Me Less.

My Job Is Unbearable To Me Because It Conflicts With My Only Desire And My Only Calling, Which Is Literature. Since I Am Nothing But Literature And Can And Want To Be Nothing Else, My Job Will Never Take Possession Of Me, It May, However, Shatter Me Completely, And This Is By No Means A Remote Possibility.

The Thornbush Is The Old Obstacle In The Road. It Must Catch Fire If You Want To Go Further.