Words Make Love With One Another.

Nothing That Surrounds Us Is Object, All Is Subject.

There Is By My Leaning Over The Precipice Of Your Presence And Your Absence In Hopeless Fusion My Finding The Secret Of Loving You Always For The First Time

The Simplest Act Of Surrealism Is To Walk Out Into The Street, Gun In Hand, And Shoot At Random.

At The Word Witch, We Imagine The Horrible Old Crones From Macbeth. But The Cruel Trials Witches Suffered Teach Us The Opposite. Many Perished Precisely Because They Were Young And Beautiful.

May Night Continue To Fall Upon The Orchestra