When They Shall Paint Our Sockets Gray

The Universe Is A Continuous Web. Touch It At Any Point And The Whole Web Quivers.

Rhythm To Me Is Essentially What Hopkins Called The Taste Of Self. I Taste Myself As Rhythm.

I Refuse To Turn To Theology To Justify The Life Or Redeem It. There Is A Question Always Of The Connection To The Eternal. I Say To Myself Above All, Keep Alive Your Conviction That There Are Sacred Elements In The Life In The Practice Of The Life That Must Be Respected. But The Conviction In The Existence Of The Sacred Does Not Necessarily Imply That You Need To Believe In A Creator, Because We Are The Ones That Made The Sacred.

I Can Hardly Wait For Tomorrow, It Means A New Life For Me Each And Every Day.

A Longing For The Dance Stirs In The Buried Life.