When we perfect 3-D copiers and they reproduce tissue, we'll have a million Marilyns walking around with no souls.

I have found, beauty is the illumination of the mind.

The winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows.

I'm a modern mountebank - I believe in Physiognomy - after all, we are in control of our face - it's the map of where we've been.

The abyss you stare into and that stares back at you is your reflection in the mirror - we all have it - that shadow self - that dark heart.

When we perfect 3-D copiers and they reproduce tissue, we'll have a million Marilyns walking around with no souls.

That icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror...