Let The Mad Find Wisdom In Their

To Call You Excrement Would Be An Insult To The Product Of My Bowels.

True Joy Is A Profound Remembering; And True Grief The Same.

You Must Be Careful With Kindness. It's Usually Mistaken For Weakness By Stupid People.

I Never Want To Be The Producer That I Too Often Got.

Of Course It’s The Apparently Tranquil Periods That Deceive Us. Though Our Instruments Or Our Senses Or Our Wits May Not Be Able To See The Processes That Are Leading Toward These Clusters Of Events, They’re Happening. The Star, The Wheel, The Butterfly—all Are In A Subtle State Of Unrest, Waiting For The Moment When Some Invisible Mechanism Signals That The Time Has Come. Then The Star Explodes; The Wheel Makes Poor Men Rich; The Butterfly Mates And Dies.