There Is No Truth. There Is Only

I Have No Use For The Kind Of God Who Goes Walking In His Garden With A Stick, Sends His Friends To Live In The Bellies Of Whales, Gives Up The Ghost With A Groan And Then Comes Back To Life Three Days Later!

What Is The Beautiful, If Not The Impossible.

Sometimes I Think I'm Liquefying Like An Old Camembert.

And He Beholds The Moon; Like A Rounded Fragment Of Ice Filled With Motionless Light.

It’s Hard To Communicate Anything Exactly And That’s Why Perfect Relationships Between People Are Difficult To Find.