We All Flee In Hope Of Finding

You Need The Noise Of Your Friends In Space.

My Idea Of Life, It's What Happens When They're Rolling The Credits.

...they Told Me Of Color, That It Was An Illusion Of The Eye, An Event In The Perceiver's Mind, Not In The Object; They Told Me That Color Had No Reality; Indeed, They Told Me That Color Did Not Inhere In A Physical Body Any More Than Pain Was In A Needle. And Then They Imprisoned Me In Darkness; And Though There Was No Color There, I Still Was Black, And They Still Were White; And For That, They Bound And Gagged Me.

A Library Is An Adjustable Wrench For Opening The Head.

Whispering Makes A Narrow Place Narrower.