There Is No Road, The Road Is

The Wind, One Brilliant Day, Called To My Soul With An Odor Of Jasmine. "in Return For The Odor Of My Jasmine, I'd Like All The Odor Of Your Roses." "i Have No Roses; All The Flowers In My Garden Are Dead." "well Then, I'll Take The Withered Petals And The Yellow Leaves And The Waters Of The Fountain." The Wind Left. And I Wept. And I Said To Myself: "what Have You Done With The Garden That Was Entrusted To You?

Life Is The Path You Beat While You Walk It.

What The Poet Is Searching For Is Not The Fundamental I But The Deep You.

At The Very Smallest Wheel Of Our Reasoning It Is Possible For A Handful Of Questions To Break The Bank Of Our Answers.

Mankind Owns Four Things That Are No Good At Sea: Rudder, Anchor, Oars And The Fear Of Going Down.