Truth Is A Woman. That Is Why

Music Was Invented To Confirm Human Loneliness.

We Are All Hunting For Rational Reasons For Believing In The Absurd.

To Write A Poem Is Like Trying To Catch A Lizard Without Its Tail Falling Off.

People Only See In Us The Contemptible Skirt-fever Which Rules Our Actions But Completely Miss The Beauty-hunger Underlying It.

Journeys, Like Artists, Are Born And Not Made. A Thousand Differing Circumstances Contribute To Them, Few Of Them Willed Or Determined By The Will-whatever We May Think.