The Most Fatal Thing A Man Can

The Mind Is Like A Richly Woven Tapestry In Which The Colors Are Distilled From The Experiences Of The Senses, And The Design Drawn From The Convolutions Of The Intellect.

People Felt Themselves Watching Him Even Before They Knew That There Was Anything Different About Him. His Eyes Made A Person Think That He Heard Things That No One Else Had Ever Heard, That He Knew Things No One Had Ever Guessed Before. He Did Not Seem Quite Human.

There Are The Lover And The Beloved, But These Two Come From Different Countries.

The Human Heart Is A Lonely Hunter-but The Search For Us Southerners Is More Anguished.

While Time, The Endless Idiot, Runs Screaming Round The World.