The Writer Must Hew The Phantom Rock.

But Look What The Church Has Done To Jesus During The Last Two Thousand Years. What They Have Made Of Him. How They Have Turned Every Word He Spoke For Their Own Vile Ends. Jesus Would Be Framed And In Jail If He Was Living Today.

The Value And Quality Of Any Love Is Determined Solely By The Lover Himself.

There Is So Much Truth In Children And So Little Self-consciousness. It Always Strikes Me That They Are So Capable Of Losing And Finding Themselves And Also Losing And Finding Those Things They Feel Close To.

The Music Left Only This Bad Hurt In Her, And A Blankness. She Could Not Remember Any Of The Symphony, Not Even The Last Few Notes. She Tried To Remember, But No Sound At All Came To Her. Now That It Was Over There Was Only Her Heart Like A Rabbit And This Terrible Hurt.

I'm Not Explaining This Right. What Happened Was This. There Were These Beautiful Feelings And Loose Little Pleasures Inside Me. And This Woman Was Something Like An Assembly Line For My Soul. I Run These Little Pieces Of Myself Through Her And I Come Out Complete. Now Do You Follow Me?