I Do Not Have Any Home. So

The People Dreamed And Fought And Slept As Much As Ever. And By Habit They Shortened Their Thoughts So That They Would Not Wander Out Into The Darkness Beyond Tomorrow.

We Are Torn Between Nostalgia For The Familiar And An Urge For The Foreign And Strange. As Often As Not, We Are Homesick Most For The Places We Have Never Known.

I Got To Wear Blinders All The Time So I Won't Think Sideways Or In The Past.

It Was Better To Be In A Jail Where You Could Bang The Walls Than In A Jail You Could Not See.

The Curt Truth Is That, In A Deep Secret Way, The State Of Being Beloved Is Intolerable To Many. The Beloved Fears And Hates The Lover, And With The Best Of Reasons. For The Lover Is Forever Trying To Strip Bare His Beloved. The Lover Craves Any Possible Relation With The Beloved, Even If This Experience Can Cause Him Only Pain.