All The World's A Stage We're Going

She Smiled At Him, With Longing. 'where Do You Live,' She Asked, 'and How Do I Get There?

An Agony. The Exit Like The Entrance - But Reserved. A Palindrome: Gut-tug.

What Makes Humans Human Is Precisely That They Do Not Know The Future. That Is Why They Do The Fateful And Amusing Things They Do: Who Can Say How Anything Will Turn Out? Therein Lies The Only Hope For Redemption, Discovery, And-let’s Be Frank—fun, Fun, Fun! There Might Be Things People Will Get Away With. And Not Just Motel Towels. There Might Be Great Illicit Loves, Enduring Joy, Faith-shaking Accidents With Farm Machinery. But You Have To Not Know In Order To See What Stories Your Life’s Efforts Bring You. The Mystery Is All.

Plots Are For Dead People.

I Would Never Understand Photography, The Sneaky, Murderous Taxidermy Of It.