Clear To Me At Last That The

The Reality Of The Individualis An Incoherent Reality And Must Be Expressed Incoherently.

Silence, Yes, But What Silence! For It Is All Very Fine To Keep Silence, But One Has Also To Consider The Kind Of Silence One Keeps.

I Shall State Silences More Competently Than Ever A Better Man Spangled The Butterflies Of Vertigo.

Poets Are The Sense, Philosophers­­ The Intelligence­­ Of Humanity.

Make Sense Who May. I Switch Off.