To That Piece In Each Of Us

The Erotic Is A Measure Between The Beginnings Of Our Sense Of Self And The Chaos Of Our Strongest Feelings.

Hatred Is A Death Wish For The Hated, Not A Life Wish For Anything Else.

I Was Going To Die, If Not Sooner, Then Later, Whether Or Not I Had Ever Spoken Myself. My Silences Had Not Protected Me. Your Silence Will Not Protect You.

The Quality Of Light By Which We Scrutinize Our Lives Has Direct Bearing Upon The Product Which We Live, And Upon The Changes Which We Hope To Bring About Through Those Lives.

We Cannot Settle For The Pretenses Of Connection, Or For The Parodies Of Self-love.