In The House Of Lovers, The Music

God Made The Illusion Look Real And The Real An Illusion !

The Meaning Of Poetry Has No Sureness Of Direction; Is Like The Sling, It Is Not Under Control.

There Is Some Kiss We Want With The Whole Of Our Lives.

The World Is A Mirror, An Imaging Of Love's Perfection.

My Boat Strikes Something Deep. At First Sounds Of Silence, Waves. Nothing Has Happened; Or Perhaps Everything Has Happened. And I Am Sitting In My New Life.