Length Is Usually Intensity. Not Time.

If America Was A Person, And It Sat Down, Lancaster Town Would Be Plunged Into A Darkness Unbreathable.

What Goes Around May Come Around, But It Never Ends Up Exactly The Same Place, You Ever Notice? Like A Record On A Turntable, All It Takes Is One Groove's Difference And The Universe Can Be On Into A Whole 'nother Song.

There Are Stories, Like Maps That Agree... Too Consistent Among Too Many Languages And Histories To Be Only Wishful Thinking.... It Is Always A Hidden Place, The Way Into It Is Not Obvious, The Geography Is As Much Spiritual As Physical. If You Should Happen Upon It, Your Strongest Certainty Is Not That You Have Discovered It But Returned To It. In A Single Great Episode Of Light, You Remember Everything.

A Number Of Frail Girls... Prisoners In The Top Room Of A Circular Tower, Embroidering A Kind Of Tapestry Which Spilled Out The Slit Windows And Into A Void, Seeking Hopelessly To Fill The Void: For All The Other Buildings And Creatures, All The Waves, Ships And Forests Of The Earth Were Contained In This Tapestry, And The Tapestry Was The World.

He Decided That We Suffer From Great Temporal Homesickness For The Decade We Were Born In.