There is only one thing that makes any one athlete better than another, his heart. We all put our underwear on feet first, so we are all human.

The movements which work revolutions in the world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the hillside.

They lived and laughed and loved and left.

And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes.

Some people believe that we go on living in another body after death, that we lived before. They call it reincarnation. That we all lived before on the earth thousands of years ago or on some other planet. They say we have forgotten it. Some say they remember their past lives.

Our souls, shamewounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more. She trusts me, her hand gentle, the longlashed eyes. Now where the blue hell am I bringing her beyond the veil? Into the ineluctable modality of the ineluctable visuality. She, she, she. What she?

History is that nightmare from which there is no awakening.