The Treasures Of The Earth Were Movement,

All Rivers Run Full To The Sea; Those Who Are Apart Are Brought Together; The Lost Ones Are Redeemed; The Dead Come Back To Life; The Perfectly Blue Days That Have Begun And Ended In Golden Dimness Continue, Immobile And Accessible; And, When All Is Perceived In Such A Way As To Obviate Time, Justice Becomes Apparent Not As Something That Will Be, But Something That Is.

When You Die, You Know, You Hear The Insistent Pounding That Defines All Things, Whether Of Matter Or Energy, Since There Is Nothing In The Universe, Really, But Proportion.

A Lot Of People Hate Heroes. I Was Criticized For Portraying People Who Are Brave, Honest, Loving, Intelligent. That Was Called Weak And Sentimental. People Who Dismiss All Real Emotion As Sentimentality Are Cowards. They’re Afraid To Commit Themselves, And So They Remain ‘cool’ For The Rest Of Their Lives, Until They’re Dead—then They’re Really Cool.

I Have A Particular Dislike Of Human Pride. And If You Think That You Can Engineer Outcomes, That's A Manifestation Of Pride. Among Other Things, It's Impractical. It Just Doesn't Work. The World Doesn't Work That Way.

Not Surprisingly, He Began To Sing, And Because No One In The World Could Hear Him, And He Sang Without Inhibition, He Sang Well.