Love Is The First Lie;

Love Becomes The Deposit Of The Heart, Analogous In All Degrees To The 'findings' In A Tomb. As In One Will Be Charted The Taken Place Of The Body, The Raiment, The Utensils Necessary To Its Other Life, So In The Heart Of The Lover Will Be Traced, As An Indelible Shadow, That Which He Loves.

Certainty Always Produces Questions, Uncertainty Statements. It Is A Balancing Law Of Nature.

To Love Without Criticism Is To Be Betrayed.

Life Is Not To Be Told, Call It As Loud As You Like, It Will Not Tell Itself.

I Talk Too Much Because I Have Been Made So Miserable By What You Are Keeping Hushed.