Work Alone Isn't Enough For Me And

One Does Not Kill Oneself For Love Of A Woman, But Because Love - Any Love - Reveals Us In Our Nakedness, Our Misery, Our Vulnerability, Our Nothingness.

The Art Of Living Is The Art Of Knowing How To Believe Lies.

You Wait For Nothing If Not For The Word That Will Burst From The Deep Like A Fruit Among Branches.

The World, The Future, Is Now Within You As Your Past, As Experience, Skill In Technique, And The Rich, Everlasting Mystery Is Found To Be Childish You That, At The Time, You Made No Effort To Possess.

You Cannot Insult A Man More Atrociously Than By Refusing To Believe He Is Suffering .