Years on end, and swords on end - where will it end, if our ears unbend - what shall I spend on a wrinkled friend in a pair of tights like a bunch of lights?

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?

It was not certain what significance the ceremony held... but the formality was no less sacred for it being unintelligible

Noon, ripe as thunder and silent as thought, had fled unfingered.

Each day I live in a glass room unless I break it with the thrusting of my senses and pass through the splintered walls to the great landscape.

Something to remember, that: cats for missiles.

I am the wilderness lost in man.