There are certain things in which one is unable to believe for the simple reason that he never ceases to feel them. Things of this sort - things which are always inside of us and in fact are us and which consequently will not be pushed off or away where we can begin thinking about them - are no longer things; they, and the us which they are, equals A Verb; an IS.

That which we die for lives as wholly as that which we live for dies.

Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement.

life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis

yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds

Laughing is just another way of showing people your wise

most people are perfectly afraid of silence