What Is Real Is Always Worth It.

I've Been Depressed Many Times In My Life. But Under It All I'm An Optimist.

Beauty Was Empty As A Gourd, Vain As A Parakeet. But It Had Power. It Smelled Of Musk And Oranges And Made You Close Your Eyes In A Prayer.

Her Fingers Moved Among Barnacles And Mussels, Blue-black, Sharp-edged. Neon Red Starfish Were Limp Dalis On The Rocks, Surrounded By Bouquets Of Stinging Anemones And Purple Bursts Of Spiny Sea Urchins.

Do You Ever Want To Go Home?' I Asked Paul. He Brushed An Ash From My Face. 'it's The Century Of The Displaced Person,' He Said. 'you Can Never Go Home.

We Strive For Beauty And Balance, The Sensual Over The Sentimental.