I Can Draw And Write, And You'd

To Love Without Criticism Is To Be Betrayed.

I'm A Fart In A Gale Of Wind, A Humble Violet Under A Cow Pat.

Destiny And History Are Untidy.

One's Life Is Peculiar To One's Own When One Has Invented It.

One Must Not Look Inward Too Much, While The Inside Is Yet Tender. I Do Not Wish To Frighten Myself Until I Can Stand It.