I Think That Walking Down The Middle

The Object We Call A Book Is Not The Real Book, But Its Potential, Like A Musical Score Or Seed. It Exists Fully Only In The Act Of Being Read; And Its Real Home Is Inside The Head Of The Reader, Where The Symphony Resounds, The Seed Germinates. A Book Is A Heart That Only Beats In The Chest Of Another.

To Be Hopeful Means To Be Uncertain About The Future, To Be Tender Toward Possibilities, To Be Dedicated To Change All The Way Down To The Bottom Of Your Heart.

...the Gym Is A Kind Of Wildlife Preserve For Bodily Exertion. A Preserve Protects Species Whose Habitat Is Vanishing Elsewhere, And The Gym (and Home Gym) Accommodates The Survival Of Bodies After The Abandonment Of The Original Sites Of Bodily Exertion.

Language Is Like A Road, It Cannot Be Perceived All At Once Because It Unfolds In Time, Whether Heard Or Read. This Narrative Or Temporal Element Has Made Writing And Walking Resemble Each Other.

The Stars We Are Given. The Constellations We Make. That Is To Say, Stars Exist In The Cosmos, But Constellations Are The Imaginary Lines We Draw Between Them, The Readings We Give The Sky, The Stories We Tell.