I Love Forms Beyond My Own, And

We Cannot Pluck A Flower Witout Disturbing A Star.

We Are One Of Many Appearances Of The Thing Called Life; We Are Not Its Perfect Image, For It Has No Perfect Image Except Life, And Life Is Multitudinous And Emergent In The Stream Of Time.

Every Man Contains Within Himself A Ghost Continent.

I Love Forms Beyond My Own, And Regret The Borders Between Us

The Freedom To Create Is Somehow Linked With Facility Of Access To Those Obscure Regions Below The Conscious Mind.