He does not know where the words will lead. Nor can he direct their course.

The moon speaks in slivers and halves.

The planet you inhabit is a single plane of infinite dimensions, stretched like a guitar string, and standing before you like a concubine waiting for your command.

A word is a bridge. It is a wave of light and sound that spans the perceived distance between one thing and another.

In the beginning was the word. And the word was split into infinity. All words, then, are part of the whole. Just as we are each part of the whole. There are individual words, as we are individual beings. Each word carries with it the memory of the whole logos. Just as we each carry the memory of the whole universe.

words are a border collie’s worst nightmare.