Words Are Sexier Than Flesh.

I Don't Like To Make A Distinction Between The Writer And The Painter , Finally , Because I Do Both Things Anyway . Everybody's Dreaming And Trying To Put Down Their Dreams In The Way That Their Hand Knows Best . I Feel As Much A Unity , As Much Comradeship , With Painters As I Do Writers .

Here Is A List Of Terrible Things, The Jaws Of Sharks, A Vultures Wings The Rabid Bite Of The Dogs Of War, The Voice Of One Who Went Before, But Most Of All The Mirror's Gaze, Which Counts Us Out Our Numbered Days.

A Soul Of Water A Soul Of Stone. A Soul By Name A Soul Unknown. The Hours Unmake Our Flesh Our Bone. The Soul Is All And All Alone!

In This Sense Love Is Of A Different Order To Any Other Phenomenon, For It May Be Both An Event And A Sign Of That Invisible Mechanism I Spoke Of Before; Perhaps The Finest Sign, The Most Certain. In It’s Throes We Need Neither Luck Nor Science. We Are The Wheel, And The Man Who Profits By It. We Are The Star, And The Darkness It Pierces. We Are The Butterfly, Brief And Beautiful.

Midian Is Where The Monsters Go.