Real Misery Cuts Off All Paths To

I Hate Solitude But I Am Afraid Of Intimacy. The Substance Of My Life Is A Private Conversation With Myself And To Turn It Into A Dialogue Would Be Equivalent To Self-destruction. The Company I Need Is The Company Which A Pub Or A Cafe Will Provide. I Have Never Wanted A Communion Of Souls.

Bereavement Is A Darkness Impenetrable To The Imagination Of The Unbereaved

Perhaps Misguided Moral Passion Is Better Than Confused Indifference.

Music Relates Sound And Time And So Pictures The Ultimate Edges Of Human Commmunications.

Evil Soon Makes Tools Out Of Those Who Don't Hate It.