No Matter How Beautiful The Outside May

The Voice So Filled With Nostalgia That You Could Almost See The Memories Floating Through The Blue Smoke, Memories Not Only Of Music And Joy And Youth, But Perhaps, Of Dreams. They Listened To The Music, Each Hearing It In His Own Way, Feeling Relaxed And A Part Of The Music, A Part Of Each Other, And Almost A Part Of The World.

If Love Is What I've Experienced, I Can't Separate It From Other People. I Can't Separate Creation, And I Can't Separate Whatever This Creative Thing Is, From It's Creation. I Don't Believe That Can Be Done. We're All Part Of This Creative Force.

I Don't Know That I Could Really Define Love. I Can't . . . Again, It's Like Trying To Define What This Creative Force Is. It's Beyond My Ability To Really Define. If I Can Define It, Then It's Not It. We're Right Back To That Thing Again.

We All Need A Meaning To Our Life.

No Matter How Beautiful The Outside May Be, The Inside Still Has Feelings And Needs That Just Words Don't Fulfill.