I Don't Understand How Any Good Art

Solitude Is A Human Presumption. Every Quiet Step Is Thunder To Beetle Life Underfoot, A Tug Of Impalpable Thread On The Web Pulling Mate To Mate And Predator To Prey, A Beginning Or An End. Every Choice Is A World Made New For The Chosen.

A Certain Feeling Comes From Throwing Your Good Life Away, And It Is One Part Rapture.

There's Such A Gulf Between Yourself And Who You Were Then, But People Speak To That Other Person And It Answers; It's Like Having A Stranger As A House Guest In Your Skin.

Nine-tenths Of Human Law Is About Possession.

It's A Great Freedom To Give Up On Love, And Get On With Everything Else.