... All Ugliness Passes, And Beauty Endures,

All Great Poetry Is Dipped In The Dyes Of The Heart.

I'm Not The Man To Baulk At A Low Smell, I'm Not The Man To Insist On Asphodel. This Sounds Like A He-fellow, Don't You Think? It Sounds Like That. I Belch, I Bawl, I Drink.

When We Think Of Cruelty, We Must Try To Remember The Stupidity, The Envy, The Frustration From Which It Has Arisen.

Another Little Drink Wouldn't Do Us Any Harm.

I Wish The Government Would Put A Tax On Pianos For The Incompetent.