A good snapshot stops a moment from running away.

Radio, sewing machine, bookends, ironing board and that great big piano lamp - peace, that's what I like. Butterbean vines planted all along the front where the strings are.

Passion is our ground, our island - do others exist?

Through travel I first became aware of the outside world; it was through travel that I found my own introspective way into becoming a part of it.

For the night was not impartial. No, the night loved some more than others, served some more than others.

The mystery lies in the use of language to express human life.

The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order the continuous thread of revelation.