Passion, You See, Can Be

A Child Is Born Into A World Of Phenomena All Equal In Their Power To Enslave.

What Was Evident Was That Mozart Was Simply Transcribing Music Completely Finished In His Head. And Finished As Most Music Is Never Finished. Displace One Note And There Would Be Diminishment. Displace One Phrase And Structure Would Fall. I Was Staring Through The Cage Of Those Meticulous Ink Strokes At Absolute Beauty.

I Think People Nowadays Do Tend To Blame Their Parents For Everything.

Rehearsing A Play Is Making The Word Flesh. Publishing A Play Is Reversing The Process.

All I Ever Wanted Was To Sing To God. He Gave Me That Longing And Then Made Me Mute.