…my Solitude Is My Treasure, The Best

I Think There Are A Lot More Important Things Than Art In The World. But Not To Me.

That Is Human Nature, That People Come After You, Willingly Enough, Provided Only That You No Longer Love Or Want Them.

There Are Things That Happen And Leave No Discernible Trace, Are Not Spoken Or Written Of, Though It Would Be Very Wrong To Say That Subsequent Events Go On Indifferently, All The Same, As Though Such Things Had Never Been.

Dorothy Was In That State Human Beings Passed Through At The Beginning Of A Love Affair, In Which They Desire To Say Anything And Everything To The Beloved, To The Alter Ego, Before They Have Learned What The Real Other Can And Can't Understand, Can And Can't Accept.

Everything Is Surprising, Rightly Seen.