My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder.
One tries to tell a truth, and one hopes that the truth has a general application rather than just a specific one.
A star appeared...and was momentarily eclipsed by some movement.
Art is partly communication, but only partly. The rest is discovery.
I am by nature an optimist and by intellectual conviction a pessimist.
What kind of human person has a favorite eraser?