She turned to the sunlight<br/>And shook her yellow head<br/>And whispered to her neighbor: "Winter is dead."

Chaos is the score upon which reality is written.

So true is that unnatural generally means only uncustomary$$$ and that everything which is usual appears natural.

When this is over$$$ I'm not going to be the same guy. I'm going to live as if I were a great man.

I love writing. I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.

Democracy is the worship of jackals by jackasses.

Words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. But black words on a white page are the soul laid bare.

Democracy is eternal and human. It dignifies the human being; it respects humanity.

This is the reason why our Theology is certain: because it seizes us from ourselves and places us outside ourselves.

The only saving grace of the present is that it's too damned stupid to question the past very closely.