Take the so-called standard of living. What do most people mean by "living"? They don’t mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science, in its finite but unbounded wisdom, has succeeded in selling their wives.

The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.

...remember one thing only: that it's you-nobody else-who determines your destiny and decides your fate. Nobody else can be alive for you; nor can you be alive for anybody else.

What time is it? It is by every star a different time, and each most falsely true.

Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.

The artist is not a man who describes, but a man who feels.

Equality is what does not exist among mortals.