How Many More Times Will

Life Is Lived Only Once. And The Less Seriously The Better.

You Will Find Yourself Among People. There Is No Help For This Nor Should You Want It Otherwise. The Passages Where No One Waits Are Dark And Hard To Navigate. The Wet Walls Touch Your Shoulders On Each Side. When The Trees Were There I Cared That They Were There. And Now They Are Gone, Does It Matter? The Passages Where No One Waits Go On And Give No Promise Of An End. You Will Find Yourself Among People, Faces, Clothing, Teeth And Hair And Words, And Many Words When There Was Life, I Said That Life Was Wrong. What Do I Say Now? You Understand?

It's Unnecessary And Destructive To Think Of Oneself At All. People Ask Me, 'what Do You Think Of Yourself As?' My Answer Is, 'nothing.

If You Don't Know Why You Like A Thing, It Is Usually Worth Your While To Attempt To Find Out.

There Is A Way To Master Silence Control Its Curves, Inhabit Its Dark Corners And Listen To The Hiss Of Time Outside