Thought Is The Thought Of Thought.

Too Excited To Be Genuinely Happy

The Light Music Of Whiskey Falling Into Glasses Made An Agreeable Interlude.

As I Am. As I Am. All Or Not At All.

Hold To The Now, The Here, Through Which All Future Plunges To The Past.

The End He Had Been Born To Serve Yet Did Not See Had Led Him To Escape By An Unseen Path And Now It Beckoned To Him Once More And A New Adventure Was About To Be Opened To Him.