Anyone contemplating world war is certifiably insane, no matter how calm they seem.
We call interconnected order beautiful. When interrupted, we call it chaos.
Is it a form of social play that underneath the words people say, there is a different conversation going on?
Your heart is the beacon, your heart is the storm. Dare to embrace it; you'll never be torn.
High finance trembles in its boots whenever there is some political complication.
The primary dues a writer or any artist pays is to remain sentient, and to forfeit the illusionary luxury of such anesthetics as avoidance, numbness, and denials.