We All Flee In Hope Of Finding

Of Course, I Had My Heart Broken As A Teen. I Was Desperately In Love With Myself. Then I Found Out That I Was Completely Shallow. I Haven't Spoken To Myself Since.

I Miss That Time. The Cities Back Then, Just After The Forests Died, Were Full Of Wonders, And You'd Stumble On Them--these Princes Of The Air On Common Rooftops--the Rivers That Burst Through The City Streets So They Ran Like Canals--the Rabbits In Parking Garages--the Deer Foaling, Nestled In Dumpsters Like A Nativity.

And I Realize That The Decision To Be Human Is Not One Single Instant, But Is A Thousand Choices Made Very Day. It Is Choices We Make Every Second And Requires Constant Vigilance. We Have To Fight To Remain Human.

A Library Is An Adjustable Wrench For Opening The Head.

At Long Last, You May No Longer Distinguish What Binds You From What Is You.