All we say is but doodles in the clay

 

I ride the crest of now

 

The critic's horizon

 

Writing aphorisms captures fireflies

 

Only by slaying the mighty

 

We are all the descendents

 

The weight of a single word

 

Falsehoods sprint, but truth marathons

 

Every golden age

 

The universe's secrets lie

 

Work is the tax of time.

 

The truest art of living

 

A book is but an aphorism stretched thin

 

Swallowed right cells weapon

 

Opportunities well aware up

 

All be man die

 

Do soul beauty test