I Write To Save Someone's

For Only When I Err Do I Get Away From What I Know And What I Understand. If "truth" Were What I Can Understand, It Would End Up Being But A Small Truth, My-sized. Truth Must Reside Precisely In What I Shall Never Understand.

I Hear The Mad Song Of A Little Bird And Crush Butterflies Between My Fingers.

Living Isn't Courage, Knowing That You're Living, That's Courage

The World's Continual Breathing Is What We Hear And Call Silence.

I Write As If To Save Somebody’s Life. Probably My Own. Life Is A Kind Of Madness That Death Makes. Long Live The Dead Because We Live In Them.