We Are The Children Of Our Landscape;

Perhaps Our Only Sickness Is To Desire A Truth Which We Cannot Bear Rather Than To Rest Content With The Fictions We Manufacture Out Of Each Other.

Life Is More Complicated Than We Think, Yet Far Simpler Than Anyone Dares To Imagine

Every Man Is Made Of Clay And Diamond, And No Woman Can Nourish Both.

Who Invented The Human Heart, I Wonder? Tell Me, And Then Show Me The Place Where He Was Hanged.

We Are All Hunting For Rational Reasons For Believing In The Absurd.