A Woman's Desire For Revenge

We May Assume That We Keep People Waiting Symbolically Because We Do Not Wish To See Them And That Our Anxiety Is Due Not To Being Late, But To Having To See Them At All.

The River Of Truth Is Always Splitting Up Into Arms That Reunite. Islanded Between Them, The Inhabitants Argue For A Lifetime As To Which Is The Mainstream.

When In Doubt, Choose Greatness.

The Artist One Day Falls Through A Hole In The Brambles, And From That Moment He Is Following The Dark Rapids Of An Underground River Which May Sometimes Flow So Near To The Surface That The Laughing Picnic Parties Are Heard Above.

When Even Despair Ceases To Serve Any Creative Purpose, Then Surely We Are Justified In Suicide.