What Is Desire?-- The Impulse To Make

Fear Was My Father, Father Fear. His Look Drained The Stones.

And Soon A Branch, Part Of A Hidden Scene,the Leafy Mind, That Long Was Tightly Furled,will Turn Its Private Substance Into Green,and Young Shoots Spread Upon Our Inner World.

What Falls Away Is Always. And Is Near.

A Mind Too Active Is No Mind At All.

What's Important? That Which Is Dug Out Of Books, Or Out Of The Guts?