The Object Of The Artist Is The

What Was After The Universe? Nothing. But Was There Anything Round The Universe To Show Where It Stopped Before The Nothing Place Began?

We Are Bound Together By The Sympathy Of Our Antipathies.

Fall If You Will, But Rise You Must.

Sometimes He Caught Himself Listening To The Sound Of His Own Voice. He Thought That In Her Eyes He Would Ascent To An Angelical Stature; And, As He Attached The Fervent Nature Of His Companion More And More Closely To Him, He Heard The Strange Impersonal Voice Which He Recognised As His Own, Insisting On The Soul's Incurable Lonliness. We Cannot Give Ourselves, It Said: We Are Our Own.

What's In A Name? That Is What We Ask Ourselves In Childhood When We Write The Name That We Are Told Is Ours.