Do Those Clowns Really Believe What They

Some People—and I Am One Of Them—hate Happy Ends. We Feel Cheated. Harm Is The Norm. Doom Should Not Jam. The Avalanche Stopping In Its Tracks A Few Feet Above The Cowering Village Behaves Not Only Unnaturally But Unethically.

Why Should I Tolerate A Perfect Stranger At The Bedside Of My Mind?

Oh, My Lolita, I Have Only Words To Play With!

All My Life I Have Been A Poor Go-to-sleeper. No Matter How Great My Weariness, The Wrench Of Parting With Consciousness Is Unspeakably Repulsive To Me.

You Can Always Count On A Murderer For A Fancy Prose Style.