“The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.”

“She is a victim of her own responses Shackled to a heart that wants to settle And then runs away.”

“God cures people – ?”

“Sex cures people – ?”

“Beauty cures people – ?”

“Love cures people – ?”

There were minutes of silence then and in them I thought about the only truth that mattered, the only morality that mattered, the only sin, the only crime.

I want to confess everything, hand over the guilt and mistake and anger to someone else. There is a beast in my gut, I can hear it scraping away at the inside of my ribs. Even if I dump the memory, it will stay with me, staining me. My closest is a good thing, a quiet place that helps me hold these thoughts inside my head where no one can hear them.

The voice is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in the abysses; to lose itself in mazes of inward action. The voice dat speaks to the soul. The touch of sensuous, enfolding the body in its hard close embrace.

A new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges and absorbs the impact

Seek the infinite, for that alone is joy unlimited, imperishable, unfailing, self- sustaining, unconditioned, timeless. When you have this joy, human life becomes a paradise; the light, the grace, the power, the perfections of that which is highest in your inner consciousness, appear in your everyday life

I am an invisible.. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids – and i might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.

He did not know where lost things went, but he swore to keep her name tucked beneath his tongue so all his words would know the shape of her, the same way rivers know their stones

Everyone has their weak spot. The one thing that, despite your best efforts, will always bring you to your knees, regardless of how strong you are otherwise

My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever scream to her or not or, , how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.”

- I… wonder what it is in the air that enables me to clear the brain

Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing?

The beautiful things of the earth become more dear as they elude pursuit.

Violence moves faster when it’s going backward.”

and it happens