All Literature Is An Effort At The

I Always Cause Those Who Are Near To Me More Suffering Than Pleasure.

Order And Disorder, Form And Formless Must Have Profound Psychological Roots, Nervous Roots.

Each Minute Bursts In The Burning Room,the Great Globe Reels In The Solar Fire,spinning The Trivial And Unique Away.(how All Things Flash! How All Things Flare!)what Am I Now That I Was Then?may Memory Restore Again And Againthe Smallest Color Of The Smallest Day:time Is The School In Which We Learn,time Is The Fire In Which We Burn.

Is It Not Clear That A Reviewer's Psyche, Like An Iceberg, Is Seven-eighths Beneath The Surface?

Literature Doesn't Matter! The Only Thing That Matters Is Money And Getting Your Teeth Fixed!