We Are The Star And The Darkness

I've Always Thought That The Most Extraordinary Special Effect You Could Do Is To Buy A Child At The Moment Of Its Birth, Sit It On A Little Chair And Say, "you'll Have Three Score Years And Ten," And Take A Photograph Every Minute. "and We'll Watch You And Photograph You For Ten Years After You Die, Then We'll Run The Film." Wouldn't That Be Extraordinary? We'd Watch This Thing Get Bigger And Bigger, And Flower To Become Extraordinary And Beautiful, Then Watch It Crumble, Decay, And Rot.

There Is No Such Thing As Originality. It Has All Been Said Before, Suffered Before. If A Person Knows That, Is It Any Wonder Love Becomes Mechanical And Death Just A Scene To Be Shunned? There Is No Absolute Knowledge To Be Gained From Either. Just Another Ride On The Merry-go-round, Another Blurred Scene Of Faces Smiling And Faces Grieved.

Any Fool Can Be Happy. It Takes A Man With Real Heart To Make Beauty Out Of The Stuff That Makes Us Weep.

It Is Great Good Health To Believe As The Hindus Do That There Are 33 Million Gods And Goddesses In The World. It Is Great Good Health To Want To Understand One S Dreams. It Is Great Good Health To Desire The Ambiguous And Paradoxical. It Is Sickness Of The Profoundest Kind To Believe That There Is One Reality. There Is Sickness In Any Piece Of Work Or Any Piece Of Art Seriously Attempting To Suggest That The Idea That There Is More Than One Reality Is Somehow Redundant.

The Moon Had Risen Behind Him, The Color Of A Shark's Underbelly. It Lit The Ruined Walls, And The Skin Of His Arms And Hands, With Its Sickly Light, Making Him Long For A Mirror In Which To Study His Face. Surely He'd Be Able To See The Bones Beneath The Meat; The Skull Gleaming The Way His Teeth Gleamed When He Smiled. After All, Wasn't That What A Smile Said? Hello, World, This Is The Way I'll Look When The Wet Parts Are Rotted.