What was after the universe? Nothing. But was there anything round the universe to show where it stopped before the nothing place began?

The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question.

Wipe your glasses with what you know.

Ineluctable modality of the visible; at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read.

I have left my book, I have left my room, For I heard you singing Through the gloom.

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

In the name of Annah the Allmaziful, the Everliving, the Bringer of Plurabilities, haloed be her eve, her singtime sung, her rill be run, unhemmed as it is uneven!