Maybe The Meaning Of Life Lies In

If Only,’ Shiroyama Dreams, ‘human Beings Were Not Masks Behind Masks Behind Masks. If Only This World Was A Clean Board Of Lines And Intersections. If Only Time Was A Sequence Of Considered Moves And Not A Chaos Of Slippages And Blunders.

What Wouldn't I Give Now For A Never-changing Map Of The Ever-constant Ineffable? To Possess, As It Were, An Atlas Of Clouds.

History Admits No Rules; Only Outcomes.

It's A Small World. It Keeps Recrossing Itself.

Nothing Is As Eloquent As Nothing.