The Body Whips The Soul.

This Morning Of The Small Snow I Count The Blessings, The Leak In The Faucet Which Makes Of The Sink Time, The Drop Of The Water On Water.

I Was Playing Catch With The European Audience.

What Does Not Change Is The Will To Change

Forgive Me If I Sleep Until I Wake Up.

One Loves Only Form, And Form Only Comes Into Existence When The Thing Is Born.