Habit Is A Great Deadener.

Nothing Happens. Nobody Comes, Nobody Goes. It's Awful.

Yes, There Were Times When I Forgot Not Only Who I Was But That I Was, Forgot To Be.

Personally Of Course I Regret Everything. Not A Word, Not A Deed, Not A Thought, Not A Need, Not A Grief, Not A Joy, Not A Girl, Not A Boy, Not A Doubt, Not A Trust, Not A Scorn, Not A Lust, Not A Hope, Not A Fear, Not A Smile, Not A Tear, Not A Name, Not A Face, No Time, No Place...that I Do Not Regret, Exceedingly. An Ordure, From Beginning To End.

Imagination At Wit's End Spreads Its Sad Wings.

The Dust Will Not Settle In Our Time. And When It Does Some Great Roaring Machine Will Come And Whirl It All Skyhigh Again.