With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.

I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.

That double-headed monster of damnation and salvation--Time.

What are we doing here, that is the question.

Art has always been this--pure interrogation, rhetorical question less the rhetoric--whatever else it may have been obliged by social reality to appear.

Mysterious affair, electricity.

Abode where lost bodies roam each searching for its lost one.