The soul of the garden shelters the solitude of man.

The man who believes that the secrets of the world are forever hidden lives in mystery and fear. Superstition will drag him down. The rain will erode the deeds of his life. But that man who sets himself the task of singling out the thread of order from the tapestry will by the decision alone have taken charge of the world and it is only by such taking charge that he will effect a way to dictate the terms of his own fate.

She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

我们是那些不在报纸上的人。我们生活在印刷品边缘的空白处。这给了我们更多的自由。我们生活在故事之间的缝隙中。

I’m not here to compete, I’m here to dominate.