And He That Will Go To Bed

It Is From Him, From Beolco Ruzzante, That I've Learned To Free Myself From Conventional Literary Writing And To Express Myself With Words That You Can Chew, With Unusual Sounds, With Various Techniques Of Rhythm And Breathing, Even With The Rambling Nonsense-speech Of The 'grammelot.'

Blush At Your Faults.

We Are Stark Naught All, Bad's The Best Of Us.

For Some Time Its Been My Habit To Use Images When Preparing A Speech: Rather Than Write It Down, I Illustrate It.

Real Socialism Is Inside Man. It Wasn't Born With Marx. It Was In The Communes Of Italy In The Middle Ages. You Can't Say It Is Finished.