I Often Reread Books I Have Written

But What Was A Body? Dust, Dung, Urine, Itches. It Was The Light Within Which Was Important, And It Was Not Significant If That Light Endured After Death, Or If The Soul Was Blinded Eternally In The Endless Night Of The Suspired Flesh.

Man Was The Outlaw, The Rebel, The Distorted Shape That Scarred The Earth, The Voice That Silenced The Music Of Eden, The Hand That Raised Up Obscenities And Blasphemies. Man Was The Pariah-dog, The Moral Leper In This Translucent Mirror Of Heaven. He Was The Muddier Of Crystal Waters, The Despoiler Of Forests, The Murderer Of The Innocent, The Challenger Against God. He Was The Assassin Of The Saints And The Prophets, For They Spoke Of What He Would Not Hear, In The Darkness Of His Spirit!

I Wanted To Acquire An Education, Work Extremely Hard And Never Deviate From My Goal, To Make It.

The Arrogance Of Officialdom Should Be Tempered And Controlled, And Assistance To Foreign Hands Should Be Curtailed, Lest Rome Fall.

I've Always Enjoyed Poor Health