The Truth Is We Never Stop Being

Dreams Fade With Morning Light, Never A Morn For Thee, Dreamer Of Dreams, Goodnight.

The World Is Alive And No Living Thing Has Any Remedy. That Is Our Fortune.

Of All The Islands He'd Visited, Two Stood Out. The Island Of The Past, He Said, Where The Only Time Was Past Time And The Inhabitants Were Bored And More Or Less Happy, But Where The Weight Of Illusion Was So Great That The Island Sank A Little Deeper Into The River Every Day. And The Island Of The Future, Where The Only Time Was The Future, And The Inhabitants Were Planners And Strivers, Such Strivers, Said Ulises, That They Were Likely To End Up Devouring One Another.

Reading Is Like Thinking, Like Praying, Like Talking To A Friend, Like Expressing Your Ideas, Like Listening To Other People's Ideas, Like Listening To Music, Like Looking At The View, Like Taking A Walk On The Beach.

Poetry And Prison Have Always Been Neighbors.