Now the night's breath responds to the sea, which I can scarcely hear from here, as it reminisces about its shipwrecks.

An immense body, encircling my delirium, a body made of wind and sunlight, crouching and stretching, encompassed the existence of the slightest human echo.

A star shoots bleeding across the skyline, a companion to the black wind. Silence comes sweeping across everything.

My wound existed before me; I was born to embody it.

I gazed upon the earth and saw that a body, in its tender faithlessness, had located it in the sky. A splendid scarf of blood, looming above the abyss.

Tonight the thoughts of the dead are turning back to the earth.

I celebrate who I am, what I love, and all of my blessings that lead to joy.

Drama entered my home last week, but I ushered it to the door and tossed it to the curb.

The politics have always been difficult in medicine. There is some truth in the way medical practice is portrayed in TV dramas.

It was in the black mirror of anarchism that surrealism first recognised itself.

Not being able to rebound better was a thorn in our foot.

Flowers are the beautiful hieroglyphics of nature with which she indicates how much she loves us.

Convicts are the best audience I ever played for.

For that matter, thinking of one's self as exceptional is probably more the rule than not.

The aphorist is a hit and run artist.

Sins of commission are far more productive of happiness than the sins of omission.