God Knows, There's Enough To Worry About

I Feel That I Am Doing The Minimum Amount Of Damage To Other Possibilities That May Take Place In A Reader's Head.

What Is, Is, And What Might Have Been Could Never Have Existed.

Mr Earbrass Stands On The Terrace At Twilight. It Is Bleak; It Is Cold; And The Virtue Has Gone Out Of Everything. Words Drift Through His Mind: Anguish Turnips Conjunctions Illness Defeat String Parties No Parties Urns Desuetude Disaffection Claws Loss Trebizond Napkins Shame Stones Distance Fever Antipodes Mush Glaciers Incoherence Labels Miasma Amputation Tides Deceit Mourning Elsewards.

I Thought I'd Be A Librarian Until I Met Some Crazy Ones.

Such Excess Of Passion Is Quite Out Of Fashion