Our Element Is Unending Immaturity.

A Brilliant Liar; He Has Total Recall.

A Universal Style Is One That Knows How To Embrace Lovingly Those Not Quite Developed.

It Is In The Prime Of Youth That Man Sinks Into Empty Phrases And Grimaces. It's In This Smithy That Our Maturity Is Forged.

We Say 'forest' But This Word Is Made Of The Unknown, The Unfamiliar, The Unencompassed. The Earth. Clods Of Dirt. Pebbles. On A Clear Day You Rest Among Ordinary, Everyday Things That Have Been Familiar To You Since Childhood, Grass, Bushes, A Dog (or A Cat), A Chair, But That Changes When You Realize That Every Object Is An Enormous Army, An Inexhaustible Swarm.

Don't Be Fooled By Your Own Wisdom