All Of Us Yearn For The Highest

They Used To Pour Millet On Graves Or Poppy Seeds To Feed The Dead Who Would Come Disguised As Birds. I Put This Book Here For You, Who Once Lived So That You Should Visit Us No More.

Grow Your Tree Of Falsehood From A Small Grain Of Truth. Do Not Follow Those Who Lie In Contempt Of Reality. Let Your Lie Be Even More Logical Than The Truth Itself, So The Weary Travelers May Find Repose.

Men Will Clutch At Illusions When They Have Nothing Else To Hold To.

Language Is The Only Homeland.

Poetry Is A Dividend From What You Know And What You Are.