In A Dream, We Are

Look, We're All The Same; A Man Is A Fourteen-room House - In The Bedroom He's Asleep With His Intelligent Wife, In The Living-room He's Rolling Around With Some Bare Ass Girl, In The Library He's Paying His Taxes, In The Yard He's Raising Tomatoes And In The Cellar He's Making A Bomb To Blow It All Up.

The Camera Has Its Own Kind Of Consciousness; In The Lens The Garden Of Eden Itself Would Become Ever So Slightly Too Perfect.

He Wants To Live On Through Something - And In His Case, His Masterpiece Is His Son. All Of Us Want That, And It Gets More Poignant As We Get More Anonymous In This World.

Don't Take It On Yourself. Forget Now. Live.

The Wedding Of Christianity Or Judaism With Nationalism Is Lethal.