The Fact Is The Sweetest Dream That

In Three Words I Can Sum Up Everything I've Learned About Life: It Goes On.

Poetry Is What Is Lost In Translation. It Is Also What Is Lost In Interpretation.

I Have Remained Resentful To This Day When Any But Myself Presumed To Say That There Was Anything I Couldn't Be.

One Luminary Clock Against The Sky Proclaimed The Time Was Neither Wrong Nor Right.

I Am One Who Has Been Acquainted With The Night