Love Is A Deeper Season Than Reason;

I Remember We All Cried Like The Missouri When My Uncle Sol's Coffin Lurched Because Somebody Pressed A Button (and Down Went My Uncle Sol And Started A Worm Farm)

Miracles Are To Come. With You I Leave A Remembrance Of Miracles: They Are By Somebody Who Can Love And Who Shall Be Continually Reborn, A Human Being.

The Voice Of Your Eyes Is Deeper Than All Roses

Seeming's Enough For Slaves Of Space And Time - Ours Is The Now And Here Of Freedom. Come.

Nothing Which We Are To Perceive In This World Equals The Power Of Your Intense Fragility