The End Of A Life Is Always

To Find A Form That Accommodates The Shape Of The Mess, That Is The Task Of The Artist Now.

He Who Has Waited Long Enough, Will Wait Forever. And There Comes The Hour When Nothing More Can Happen And Nobody More Can Come And All Is Ended But The Waiting That Knows Itself In Vain.

There's Never An End For The Sea.

Nothing Is More Real Than Nothing.

Nothing Matters But The Writing. There Has Been Nothing Else Worthwhile... A Stain Upon The Silence.