I Have The Wonderful Pleasure

How Exquisitely Human Was The Wish For Permanent Happiness, And How Thin Human Imagination Became Trying To Achieve It.

Don’t Beg Anybody For Anything, Especially Love.

Every Now And Then She Looked Around For Tangible Evidence Of His Having Ever Been There. Where Were The Butterflies? The Blueberries? The Whistling Reed? She Could Find Nothing, For He Had Left Nothing But His Stunning Absence.

In Times Of Dread, Artists Must Never Choose To Remain Silent.

A Man Ain't Nothing But A Man. But A Son? Well, Now, That's Somebody.