America Is A Lunatic Asylum.

As A Bathtub Lined With White Porcelain, When The Hot Water Gives Out Or Goes Tepid, So Is The Slow Cooling Of Our Chivalrous Passion, O My Much Praised But-not-altogether-satisfactory Lady.

And The Days Are Not Full Enough And The Nights Are Not Full Enough And Life Slips By Like A Field Mouse Not Shaking The Grass

The Real Meditation Is ... The Meditation On One's Identity. Ah, Voilà Une Chose!! You Try It. You Try Finding Out Why You're You And Not Somebody Else. And Who In The Blazes Are You Anyhow? Ah, Voilà Une Chose!

Literature Does Not Exist In A Vacuum. Writers As Such Have A Definite Social Function Exactly Proportional To Their Ability As Writers. This Is Their Main Use.

Any Damn Fool Can Be Spontaneous.