Light Is Snow Sifted / To An

In The Country Of Pain We Are Each Alone.

Routine Is Not A Prison, But The Way Into Freedom From Time.

I Feel Like An Inadequate Machine, A Machine That Breaks Down At Crucial Moments, Grinds To A Dreadful Hault, 'won't Go,' Or, Even Worse, Explodes In Some Innocent Person's Face.

... Love Is Healing, Even Rootless Love.

One Must Believe That Private Dilemmas Are, If Deeply Examined, Universal, And So, If Expressed, Have A Human Value Beyond The Private, And One Must Also Believe In The Vehicle For Expressing Them, In The Talent.