I Doubt We Will Ever Be Forgiven.

Nothing So Completely Verifies Our Perception Of A Thing As Our Killing Of It.

Literature Was Intended To Be Dangerous. Art Was Meant To Be Dangerous. Ideas Were Nothing If They Were Not Dangerous.

They Waited. The Door Did Not Open. The Rain Did Not Stop. The Darkness Made A Tent And Covered Them Completely.

I Still Maintain That An Ordinary Human Being Has The Right To Be Horrified By A Mangled Body Seen On An Afternoon Walk.

Everyone Who’s Born Has Come From The Sea. Your Mother’s Womb Is Just A Sea In Small. And Birds Come Of Seas On Eggs. Horses Lie In The Sea Before They’re Born. The Placenta Is The Sea. Your Blood Is The Sea Continued In Your Veins. We Are The Ocean — Walking On The Land.