That Double-headed Monster Of Damnation And Salvation--time.

If You Don't Know Where You Are Currently Standing, You're Dead.

To Find A Form That Accommodates The Mess, That Is The Task Of The Artist Now.

What Are We Doing Here, That Is The Question.

The Tears Stream Down My Cheeks From My Unblinking Eyes. What Makes Me Weep So? There Is Nothing Saddening Here. Perhaps It Is Liquefied Brain.

I Shall State Silences More Competently Than Ever A Better Man Spangled The Butterflies Of Vertigo.