I Shall Laugh My Bitter Laugh.

There Are Certain Words Which Are Nearer And Dearer To A Man Than Any Others.

Ah, Steeds, Steeds, What Steeds! Has The Whirlwind A Home In Your Manes? Is There A Sensitive Ear, Alert As A Flame, In Your Every Fiber? Hearing The Familiar Song From Above, All In One Accord You Strain Your Bronze Chests And, Hooves Barely Touching The Ground, Turn Into Straight Lines Cleaving The Air, And All Inspired By God It Rushes On!

They Don’t Listen To Me, They Don’t Hear Me, They Don’t See Me.

The Lord Grant We May All Be Tillers Of The Soil.

It's Not My Job To Preach A Sermon. Art Is Anyhow A Homily. My Job Is To Speak In Living Images, Not In Arguments. I Must Exhibit Life Full-face, Not Discuss Life.