We All Have Within Us A Center

You Wake From Dreams Of Doom And--for A Moment--you Know: Beyond All The Noise And The Gestures, The Only Real Thing, Love's Calm Unwavering Flame In The Half-light Of An Early Dawn.

In The Last Analysis, It Is Our Conception Of Death Which Decides Our Answers To All The Questions That Life Puts To Us.

The Light Died In The Low Clouds. Falling Snow Drank In The Dusk. Shrouded In Silence, The Branches Wrapped Me In Their Peace. When The Boundaries Were Erased, Once Again The Wonder: That *i* Exist.

I Never Discuss Discussions.

We Cannot Afford To Forget Any Experience, Not Even The Most Painful.