One Is A Member Of A Country,

When The Body Sinks Into Death, The Essence Of Man Is Revealed. Man Is A Knot, A Web, A Mesh Into Which Relationships Are Tied. Only Those Relationships Matter. The Body Is An Old Crock That Nobody Will Miss. I Have Never Known A Man To Think Of Himself When Dying. Never.

The Only Things You Learn Are The Things You Tame

Truth, For Any Man, Is That Which Makes Him A Man.

The Tree Is More Than First A Seed, Then A Stem, Then A Living Trunk, And Then Dead Timber. The Tree Is A Slow, Enduring Force Straining To Win The Sky.

It Is Such A Secret Place, The Land Of Tears.