Some Loves Are Like A

Consciousness Is Our Only Reprieve From Time.

Loneliness Is More Likely To Lead To Fussy Housekeeping Than To Grand Views Of The Universe.

If The World Would Apologize, I Might Consider A Reconciliation.

Posterity--the Forlorn Child Of Nineteenth Century Optimism--grows Ever Harder To Conceive.

Ultimately, Blind Faith Is The Only Kind.