The Limited Circle Is Pure.

For We Are Like Tree Trunks In The Snow. In Appearance They Lie Smoothly And A Little Push Should Be Enough To Set Them Rolling. No, It Can't Be Done, For They Are Firmly Wedded To The Ground. But See, Even That Is Only Appearance.

Going To Pieces. To Go To Pieces So Pointlessly And Unnecessarily.

I Never Wish To Be Easily Defined. I’d Rather Float Over Other People’s Minds As Something Strictly Fluid And Non-perceivable; More Like A Transparent, Paradoxically Iridescent Creature Rather Than An Actual Person.

Beyond A Certain Point There Is No Return. This Point Has To Be Reached.

There Is An Infinite Amount Of Hope In The Universe ... But Not For Us.