The Dream Was Always Running Ahead Of

One Handles Truths Like Dynamite. Literature Is One Vast Hypocrisy, A Giant Deception, Treachery. All Writers Have Concealed More Than They Revealed.

The Truly Faithless One Is The One Who Makes Love To Only A Fraction Of You. And Denies The Rest.

In Each Studio There Is A Human Being Dressed In The Full Regalia Of His Myth Fearing To Expore A Vulnerable Opening, Spreading Not His Charms But His Defences, Plotting To Disrobe, Somewhere Along The Night-- His Body Without The Aperture Of The Heart Or His Heart With A Door Closed To His Body. Thus Keeping One Compartment For Refuge, One Uninvaded Cell.

One May Gain One Truth At The Expense Of Another.

The Core Of Creation Is To Summon An Image And The Power To Work With The Image.