What A Test That Is:

... A Less Than Perfect Meddling In The Spiritual World Can Breed Monsters For Other People.

For Most Of Us The Space Between 'dreaming On Things To Come' And 'it Is Too Late, It Is All Over' Is Too Tiny To Enter.

Art Is Not Cozy And It Is Not Mocked. Art Tells The Only Truth That Ultimately Matters. It Is The Light By Which Human Things Can Be Mended. And After Art There Is, Let Me Assure You All, Nothing.

Those Who Hope, By Retiring From The World, To Earn A Holiday From Human Frailty, In Themselves And Others, Are Usually Disappointed.

So We Live; A Spirit That Broods And Hovers Over The Continual Death Of Time, The Lost Meaning, The Unrecaptured Moment, The Unremembered Face, Until The Final Chop That Ends All Our Moments And Plunges That Spirit Back Into The Void From Which It Came.