When the world is itself draped in the mantle of night, the mirror of the mind is like the sky in which thoughts twinkle like stars.

By definition, you can’t experience your own death. Death is the end of consciousness. And consciousness persists. In the language of physics, consciousness is conserved.I am the one who wakes up in the morning.Always.Every morning.I...

Rightly tired of the pain İ hear and feel, boss… where we’s comin from or goin to or why… If İ could end it, İ would. But İ can’t.

In his face there came to be a brooding peace that is seen most often in the faces of the very sorrowful or the very wise. But still he wandered through the streets of the...

The ChairI’m writing to you, who made the archaic wooden chairlook like a throne while you sat on it.Amidst your absence, I choose to sit on the floor,which is dusty as a dry Kansas day.I...

What is interesting and important happens mostly in secret, in places where there is no power.

I try to shake it loose-but these ideas, they cling. It’s like I’m shackled to them with an iron chain. They rattle along behind me, dragging against the ground, always reminding me of their presence.

All this wondering was the weather vane on top of the building of unrest and of discontent

Loneliness is not the enemy of your joy as long as you know how you should always destroy the pensive mood that remains with you like a friend who never stands up for you when...