It's In An Inland Sea That The

And Let Our Despite Go To Those Who Work And Fight And Our Hate To Those Who Hope And Trust.

I Look For Myself But Find No One. I Belong To The Chrysanthemum Hour Of Bright Flowers Placed In Tall Vases. I Should Make An Ornament Of My Soul.

All Beginnings Are Involuntary.

Sometimes, When I Wake Up At Night, I Feel Invisible Hands Weaving My Destiny.

Who Am I To Myself? Just A Feeling Of Mine.