The Rich Are Always Enamored Of The

Ambition Like A Liquid Ruby Stains.

It Is A Magic Book. Words Mean Things. When You Put Them Together They Speak. Yes, Sometimes They Flatten Out And Nothing They Say Is Real, And That Is One Kind Of Magic. But Sometimes A Vision Will Rip Up From Them And Shriek And Clank Wings Clear As The Sweat Smudge On The Paper Under Your Thumb. And That Is Another Kind.

It's Frightening For One Artist To See Another One, Any Other One Turn Away From Art.

It's Only ... When We're Stripped Of Purpose That We Know Who We Are.

Human Beings Being What They Are, Order Spreads, Given Half A Chance, Almost As Fast As Confusion.