We Are All Prisoner, But The Name

There Is Nothing Like The Bootless Solitude Of Those Who Are Caged Together.

I Live, I Live, With An Absolutely Continuous Sense Of Failure. I Am Always Defeated, Always. Every Book Is The Wreck Of A Perfect Idea. The Years Pass And One Has Only One Life. If One Has A Thing At All One Must Do It And Keep On And On And On Trying To Do It Better.

Art Is Brief. (not In A Temporal Sense.) [...] Words Are For Concealment. Art Is Concealment.

We Can Only Learn To Love By Loving.

My Heart Was Beating Like An Army On The March.