Time Marks Us While We Are Marking

Art Is Our Defense Against Hysteria And Death.

In This Place Of Light: He Dares To Live Who Stops Being A Bird, Yet Beats His Wings Against The Immense Immeasurable Emptiness Of Things.

So Much Of Adolescence Is An Ill-defined Dying, An Intolerable Waiting, A Longing For Another Place And Time, Another Condition.

Civilization Is Over-rated, But There Isn't Much Else.

A Lively Understandable Spirit Once Entertained You. It Will Come Again. Be Still. Wait.