That Which Above All Other Yields The

Death Is A Friend Of Ours; And He That Is Not Ready To Entertain Him Is Not At Home.

A Forbidden Writing Is Thought To Be A Certain Spark Of Truth, That Flies Up In The Face Of Them Who Seek To Tread It Out.

Men Suppose Their Reason Has Command Over Their Words; Still It Happens That Words In Return Exercise Authority On Reason

They Are Happy Men Whose Natures Sort With Their Vocations.

I Use All Sorts Of Things To Work With: Old Brooms, Old Sweaters, And All Kinds Of Peculiar Tools And Materials... I Paint To Excite Myself, And Make Something For Myself.