Now That I Am Moving, I Am

What I Cannot Love, I Overlook. Is That Real Friendship?

To Love And To Labor Is The Sum Of Living.

There Are Very Few Human Beings Who Receive The Truth, Complete And Staggering, By Instant Illumination. Most Of Them Acquire It Fragment By Fragment, On A Small Scale, By Successive Developments, Cellularly, Like A Laborious Mosaic.

When I Cannot Bear Outer Pressures Anymore, I Begin To Put Order In My Belongings...as If Unable To Organize And Control My Life, I Seek To Exert This On The World Of Objects.

To Write Is To Descend, To Excavate, To Go Underground.