Words are the clothes thoughts wear.
We are all born; some remain so.
There is man in his entirety, blaming his shoe when his foot is guilty.
But I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.
Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
Tears and laughter, they are so much Gaelic to me.