In Love, One And One Are One.

Time Is Too Large, It Can't Be Filled Up. Everything You Plunge Into It Is Stretched And Disintegrates.

I Think [alain Robbe-grillet] A Good Writer, But He Speaks To The Comfortable Bourgeoisie.

It Is Enough That One Man Hate Another For Hate To Gain, Little By Little, All Mankind.

What The Painter Adds To The Canvas Are The Days Of His Life. The Adventure Of Living, Hurtling Toward Death.

Atheism Is A Cruel Long Term Business, And I Have Gone Through It To The End.