Its Haunting To Realize That Half Of

Language Is An Old-growth Forest Of The Mind.

Only, In Haiti, I Realized, Is It Possible To Drink Rum And Haggle With A God.

Risk Discomfort And Solitude For Understanding.

To Have That Powder Blown Up Your Nose Is Rather Like Being Shot Out Of A Rifle Barrel Lined With Baroque Paintings And Landing On A Sea Of Electricity.

So Be Patient. Do Not Compromise. And Give Your Destiny Time To Find You.