Every Dogma Has Its Day.

And I Sort Of Frowned About That, Thinking. 'you Felt Ill This Afternoon,' He Said, 'because You're Getting Better. When We're Healthy We Respond To The Presence Of The Hateful With Fear And Nausea. You're Becoming Healthy, That's All.

Literature Ceases To Be Literature When It Commits Itself To Moral Uplift; It Becomes Moral Philosophy Or Some Such Dull Thing.

I Was Always On My Oddy Knocky.

Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Well. To What Do I Owe The Extreme Pleasure Of This Surprising Visit?

How Wicked, My Brothers, Innocent Milk Must Always Seem To Me Now.