Any Fool Can Be Happy.

There Is No Such Thing As Originality. It Has All Been Said Before, Suffered Before. If A Person Knows That, Is It Any Wonder Love Becomes Mechanical And Death Just A Scene To Be Shunned? There Is No Absolute Knowledge To Be Gained From Either. Just Another Ride On The Merry-go-round, Another Blurred Scene Of Faces Smiling And Faces Grieved.

We Each Die Countless Little Deaths On Our Way To The Last. We Die Out Of Shame As Humiliation. We Perish From Despair. And, Of Course, We Die For Love.

It Was As Though In These Last Minutes Together - When They Had So Much To Say - They Could Say Nothing Of The Least Significance, For Fear It Open The Floodgates.

A Soul Of Water A Soul Of Stone. A Soul By Name A Soul Unknown. The Hours Unmake Our Flesh Our Bone. The Soul Is All And All Alone!

All Things Are True. God's An Astronaut. Oz Is Over The Rainbow, And Midian Is Where The Monsters Live." - Peloquin