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Here Is An Unfenced Existance

Life And Literature Is A Question Of What One Thrills To, And Further Than That No Man Shall Ever Go Without Putting His Foot In A Turd.

Death Is No Different Whined At Than Withstood.

Now, Helpless In The Hollow Of An Unarmorial Age, A Trough Of Smoke In Slow Suspended Skeins Above Their Scrap Of History, Only An Attitude Remains: Time Has Transfigured Them Into Untruth. The Stone Finality They Hardly Meant Has Come To Be Their Final Blazon, And To Prove Our Almost-instinct Almost True: What Will Survive Of Us Is Love.

No One Can Tear Your Thread Out Of Himself. No One Can Tie You Down Or Set You Free.