It Is Written In The Book Of

Life Is Beautiful. He Who Reads That As In The Window Of Some Distant, Speeding Train Knows What He Wants, And What Will Befall.

The Facts Of History Have Been Too Well Rehearsed.

I Often Wonder If I Am Suffering From Some Mental Dysfunction Because Of How Weird And Baffling My Poetry Seems To So Many People And Sometimes To Me Too.

The Winter Does What It Can For Its Children.

Until, Accustomed To Disappointments, You Can Let Yourself Rule And Be Ruled By These Strings Or Emanations That Connect Everything Together, You Haven't Fully Exorcised The Demon Of Doubt That Sets You In Motion Like A Rocking Horse That Cannot Stop Rocking.