In My Dreams You Walk Dripping From

We Love To Be Hurt And We Love To Have Our Unhealing Wounds Opened And Reopened Again: We Sit Staring In The Mirror Of Art, Fascinated By Our Own Deformities.

Unholy Battered Old Thing You Were, My Sunflower O My Soul, I Loved You Then!

You Are What You Think About All Day.

It's Never To Late To Do Nothing At All.

The Actual Materials Are Important. A Book At The Nightstand Is Important - A Light You Can Get At - Or A Flashlight As Kerouac Had A Brakeman's Latern.