There Is No Reason That We Should

We Switch To Another Language-- Not Our Invented Language Or The Language We've Learned From Our Lives. As We Walk Further Up The Mountain, We Speak The Language Of Silence. This Language Gives Us Time To Think And Move. We Can Be Here And Elsewhere At The Same Time.

Every Person Is A Possibility. The Hopeless Romantics Feel It Most Acutely, But Even For Others, The Only Way To Keep Going Is To See Every Person As A Possibility.

The Word I Think Of Is Precarious. I Am Struck By How Precarious It All Is. How The Things That Hold Us Are Only As Strong As The Faith We Have In Them.

Anchor, V.: I Drift, I Drift, I Drift, You Stay.

It Daunted Me That You Were So Beautiful, That You Were So At Ease In Social Situations, As If Every Room Was Heliotropic, With You At The Center. And I Guess It Daunted You That I Had So Many More Friends Than You, That I Could Put My Words Together Like This, On Paper, And Could Sometimes Conjure A Certain Sense Out Of Things. The Key Is To Never Recognize These Imbalances. To Not Let The Dauntingness Daunt Us.