World Is Supposed To Mean

Too Much Has Been Forgotten In The Name Of Memory.

I Think Silence Is The Condition You Accept As The Judgment On Your Crimes.

Insanity's So Personal. It's Hard To Know Who Shares Our Secrets.

There's Always A Period Of Curious Fear Between The First Sweet-smelling Breeze And The Time When The Rain Comes Cracking Down.

We Feel Certain That The Extraterrestrial Message Is A Mathematical Code Of Some Kind. Probably A Number Code. Mathematics Is The One Language We Might Conceivably Have In Common With Other Forms Of Intelligent Life In The Universe. As I Understand It, There Is No Reality More Independent Of Our Perception And More True To Itself Than Mathematical Reality.