In Times Of Joy, All Of Us

A Real Book Is Not One That We Read, But One That Reads Us.

Most People Call Something Profound, Not Because It Is Near Some Important Truth But Because It Is Distant From Ordinary Life. Thus, Darkness Is Profound To The Eye, Silence To The Ear; What-is-not Is The Profundity Of What-is.

There Is No Such Thing As The State And No One Exists Alone; Hunger Allows No Choice To The Citizen Or The Police; We Must Love One Another Or Die.

Art Is Born Of Humiliation.

For Time Is Inches And The Heart's Changes, Where Ghost Has Haunted Lost And Wanted.