The Only Thing I Could Think Of

I Cut You Out Because I Couldn't Stand Being A Passing Fancy.

The Artist's Life Nourishes Itself On The Particular, The Concrete.

You Cannot Regard Your Own Life With Objective Curiosity All The Time.

I May Never Be Happy, But Tonight I Am Content. At Times Like This I'd Call Myself A Fool To Ask For More.

This Is The Light Of The Mind, Cold And Planetary. The Trees Of The Mind Are Black. The Light Is Blue.