Envy is a pygmy with a blow gun shooting venomous darts. Often these are words that take aim at the heat and try to stop it from beating.
What is our responsibility to the dead? Only the care of all that lives. This is a sentiment that strikes me as strange but true, not one
that I would have expected to discover within my breast in my heart when I was younger. It connects me with the ancestor worship that is so fundamental
because we owe everything to our ancestors without whom we would not be. The sun, too, is our ancestor, that young star by whose light we live.
If you ask for help and catch hell, you will learn not to ask for help. The result is solitary confinement.
There is no torturer like one’s own body.
Occasionally a nightmare can act like a bulldozer clearing away vast quantities of