Show Him Every Dawn & Read To

Haven’t You Heard Of The Music Of The Spheres?” Asked The Dragon. “it’s The Music That Space Makes To Itself. All The Spirits Inside All The Stars Are Singing. I’m A Star Spirit. I Sing Too. The Music Of The Spheres Is What Makes Space So Peaceful.

In The Pit Of Red You Hid From The Bone-clinic Whiteness But The Jewel You Lost Was Blue.

It Took The Whole Of Creation To Produce My Foot, My Each Feather: Now I Hold Creation In My Foot. Or Fly Up, And Revolve It All Slowly - I Kill Where I Please Because It Is All Mine. There Is No Sophistry In My Body: My Manners Are Tearing Off Heads - The Allotment Of Death.

The Bush Administration Doesn't Particularly Like Public Participation. It Makes Them Look Bad.

The Real Mystery Is This Strange Need. Why Can't We Just Hide It And Shut Up? Why Do We Have To Blab? Why Do Human Beings Need To Confess?