The thing that is believed is a reality.

We read, we travel, we become.

The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other’s welcome.

Slowly my body grows a single sound, slowly I become a bell, an oval, disembodied vowel, I grow, an owl, an aureole, white fire poesia "Metamorfosi, I. Luna

Americans are not brought up with meter. They're not brought up with poetry. If you try to get them to recite, they're too embarrassed.

We look and see what we see in a mirror, and we believe it. That's important, the question of belief. The question is: Should we believe what we see in a mirror?

Peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.