To Poison A Nation, Poison Its Stories.

There Is A Kind Of Expressed Love Which Is Easy To Subvert. When A Figure Is Loved For Their Deeds, Their Conquests, Their Heroism, Their Goodness, Their Love Of The People, These Are Easy Enough To Destroy... But There Is A Kind Of Love Which Is Felt For Apparently No Reason... A Love, Inspired, It Seems, By The Gods, Which It Is Impossible To Fight, Distort, Destroy, Or Weaken. In Fact, The Attempts To Destroy Such Loves Only Strengthen Them. And To Do Nothing Allows Them To Continue To Grow At Their Natural Pace, Inexoribly, Till This Love Becomes A Wide And Silent Adoration.

Destiny Plans A Different Route And Fulfills The Dream In Ways We Couldn't Have Expected.

The Higher The Artist, The Fewer The Gestures. The Fewer The Tools, The Greater The Imagination. The Greater The Will, The Greater The Secret Failure.

Don't Neglect The Gold In Your Own Back Yard.

I Held You In The Square And Felt The Evening Re-order Itself Around Your Smile.