If Your Way Of Life Is Writing,

Sometimes I Dream A Sentence And Write It Down. It’s Usually Nonsense, But Sometimes It Seems A Key To Another World.

To Live Past The End Of Your Myth Is A Perilous Thing.

You Used To Say. "desire Doubled Is Love And Love Doubled Is Madness." Madness Doubled Is Marriage I Added When The Caustic Was Cool, Not Intending To Produce A Golden Rule.

Beauty Spins And The Mind Moves. To Catch Beauty Would Be To Understand How That Impertinent Stability In Vertigo Is Possible. But No, Delight Need Not Reach So Far. To Be Running Breathlessly, But Not Yet Arrived, Is Itself Delightful, A Suspended Moment Of Living Hope.

Eros Is An Issue Of Boundaries. He Exists Because Certain Boundaries Do. In The Interval Between Reach And Grasp, Between Glance And Counterglance, Between ‘i Love You’ And ‘i Love You Too,’ The Absent Presence Of Desire Comes Alive. But The Boundaries Of Time And Glance And I Love You Are Only Aftershocks Of The Main, Inevitable Boundary That Creates Eros: The Boundary Of Flesh And Self Between You And Me. And It Is Only, Suddenly, At The Moment When I Would Dissolve That Boundary, I Realize I Never Can.