Applause Is The Beginning Of Abuse

Nothing Has Changed Since I Began. My Eye Has Permitted No Change. I Am Going To Keep Things Like This.

Where White Is Black And Black Is White, I Won.

He Was His Own Leftover, The Spat-out Scrag. He Was What His Brain Could Make Nothing Of.

The Brassy Wood-pigeons Bubble Their Colourful Voices, And The Sun Rises Upon A World Well-tried And Old.

You Solve It As You Get Older, When You Reach The Point Where You've Tasted So Much That You Can Somehow Sacrifice Certain Things More Easily, And You Have A More Tolerant View Of Things Like Possessiveness (your Own) And A Broader Acceptance Of The Pains And The Losses.