At midnight tears Run into your ears.
Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.
It is through the acceptance of a variety of aethetic and intellectual points of view that a culture is given breadth and density.
I don't like quintessential certitude.
I hope that one or two immortal lyrics will come out of all this tumbling around.
The Initial Mystery that attends any journey is: how did the traveler reach his starting point in the first place?