Let Me See What I Wrote So

I Know Nothing, Except What Everyone Knows - If There When Grace Dances, I Should Dance.

To Save Your World You Asked This Man To Die; Would This Man, Could He See You Now, Ask Why?

Our Claim To Our Own Bodies And Our World Is Our Catastrophe.

Language Is The Mother, Not The Handmaiden, Of Thought; Words Will Tell You Things You Never Thought Or Felt Before.

The Nightingales Are Sobbing In The Orchards Of Our Mothers, And Hearts That We Broke Long Ago Have Long Been Breaking Others; Tears Are Round, The Sea Is Deep: Roll Them Overboard And Sleep.