The Jungle Is Dark But Full Of

When The Guns Roar, The Arts Die.

It Is Rare For People To Be Asked The Question Which Puts Them Squarely In Front Of Themselves

I Love Her Too, But Our Neuroses Just Don't Match.

In A Dream, We Are Simply Confronted With Various Loaded Symbols, And Where One Is Exhausted, It Gives Way To Another.

The Camera Has Its Own Kind Of Consciousness; In The Lens The Garden Of Eden Itself Would Become Ever So Slightly Too Perfect.