Once Evolution Gets A Good

The Life Of A Poet Lies Not Merely In The Finite Language-dance Of Expression But In The Nearly Infinite Combinations Of Perception And Memory Combined With The Sensitivity To What Is Perceived And Remembered.

Lovemaking Seems All Too Absurd When Described.

Pain And Darkness Have Been Our Lot Since The Fall Of Man. But There Must Be Some Hope That We Can Rise To A Higher Level ... That Consciousness Can Evolve To A Plane More Benevolent Than Its Counterpoint Of A Universe Hardwired To Indifference.

Nothing Helps An Artist's Career More Than A Little Death And Obscurity.

Any Allegiance To A Deity Or Concept Or Universal Principal Which Put Obedience Above Decent Behavior Toward An Innocent Human Being Evil.