History is where tensions were.

History is where tensions were.

The only way out is the way through, just as you cannot escape death except by dying. Being unable to write, you must examine in writing this being unable, which becomes for the present -henceforth?- the subject to which you are condemned.

I like all my children, even the squat and ugly ones.

Language is remarkable, except under the extreme constraints of mathematics and logic, it never can talk only about what it's supposed to talk about but is always spreading around.

When you write it doesn't occur to you that somebody could think different from what you do.

Obvious enough that generalities work to protect the mind from the great outdoors; is it possible that this was in fact their first purpose?