Nothing

Diamond, Sand, Rust, Diamonds, Rust, Sand, Diamonds and Rust. That's all there is. That's all there is. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Colors Of Love

The color of love is red Your skirt Your polka-dot shirt Your spent night's unmade bed. The color of love is black The night that follows me The ghosts that follow you Or whatever you lack. The color of love is blue Are you in the bathtub now? With the stranger who knows you well And maybe he loves you too. The color of love is white You in your wedding dress And I a fool A fool To think of you tonight. ~o~

'The Heart Of The Matter' by Graham Greene

Few authors, essentially European, have an ability of analyzing human nature in a superbly intricate way. He puts it on the table, observes it, dissects it, takes it under the microscope, observes it again and writes the results down. That's what Graham Greene has done in his novel, 'The Heart Of The Matter'. One of the reviews quite truly states: "I read some comments by Greene about the book ... He says that the book the critics and public read is not the book he was trying to write. Despite himself, he has given us a terrific book ..." Some parts of the book: actions, thoughts, characters, sentences wonderfully resembled my own life, thoughts. It was indeed a pleasure to read this book, Mr. Greene.