Words Are The Only Bullets In Truth's

A Hero. You Want To Be One Of Those Rare Human Beings Who Make History, Rather Than Merely Watch It Flow Around Them Like Water Around A Rock.

Human Beings Have Only That Confusing Mass Of Chemically Driven Neurological Storage To Rely On. They're All Subjective And Emotion-tinged. How Can They Trust Any Of Their Memories?

A Token Of Ecological Awareness In A Society Devoted To Self Destruction And Waste But Unwilling To Acknowledge Its Indulgent Ways.

Words Are The Light And Sound Of Our Existence, The Heat Lightning By Which The Night Is Illuminated.

She Had Always Felt That The Essence Of Human Experience Lay Not Primarily In The Peak Experiences, The Wedding Days And Triumphs Which Stood Out In The Memory Like Dates Circled In Red On Old Calendars, But, Rather, In The Unself-conscious Flow Of Little Things - The Weekend Afternoon With Each Member Of The Family Engaged In His Or Her Own Pursuit, Their Crossings And Connections Casual, Dialogues Imminently Forgettable, But The Sum Of Such Hours Creating A Synergy Which Was Important And Eternal.