When You Stare Into An

Instruments And Playthings Are Sense And Spirit: Behind Them There Is Still The Self. The Self Seeketh With The Eyes Of The Senses, It Hearkeneth Also With The Ears Of The Spirit.

Where Neither Love Nor Hatred Is In The Game, A Woman's Game Is Mediocre.

One Who Has A Why Can Endure Anyhow.

You Know A Moment Is Important When It Is Making Your Mind Go Numb With Beauty.

Let Us Not Underestimate The Privileges Of The Mediocre. As One Climbs Higher, Life Becomes Ever Harder, The Coldness Increases, Responsibility Increases.