Get In, Get Out. Don't

The Smooth Stones You Pick Up And Examine Under The Moon's Light Have Been Made Blue From The Sea. Next Morning When You Pull Them From Your Trouser Pocket, They Are Still Blue.

You've Got To Work With Your Mistakes Until They Look Intended. Understand?

I Am A Cigarette With A Body Attached To It

There Isn't Enough Of Anything As Long As We Live. But At Intervals A Sweetness Appears And, Given A Chance Prevails.

What Do Any Of Us Really Know About Love?