The Only Person You Are Destined To

As Long As Our Civilization Is Essentially One Of Property, Of Fences, Of Exclusiveness, It Will Be Mocked By Delusions.

Let Us Answer A Book Of Ink With A Book Of Flesh And Blood.

There Is A Tendency For Things To Right Themselves.

Every Artist Was First An Amateur.

The Whole World Is An Omen And A Sign. Why Look So Wistfully In A Corner? Man Is The Image Of God. Why Run After A Ghost Or A Dream? The Voice Of Divination Resounds Everywhere And Runs To Waste Unheard, Unregarded, As The Mountains Echo With The Bleatings Of Cattle.