And The Stars Were Icicles Of Mockery

Ah, It Was A Fine Night, A Warm Night, A Wine-drinking Night, A Moony Night, And A Night To Hug Your Girl And Talk And Spit And Be Heavengoing.

I Saw That My Life Was A Vast Glowing Empty Page And I Could Do Anything I Wanted.

I Nudged Myself Closer To The Ledge And Closed My Eyes And Thought 'oh What A Life This Is, Why Do We Have To Be Born In The First Place, And Only So We Can Have Our Poor Gentle Flesh Laid Out To Such Impossible Horrors As Huge Mountains And Rock And Empty Space,' And With Horror I Remembered The Famous Zen Saying, 'when You Get To The Top Of A Mountain, Keep Climbing.' The Saying Made My Hair Stand On End; It Had Been Such Cute Poetry Sitting On Alvah's Straw Mats.

My Fault, My Failure, Is Not In The Passions I Have, But In My Lack Of Control Of Them.

Great Things Are Not Accomplished By Those Who Yield To Trends And Fads And Popular Opinion.