How Alike Are The Groans Of Love

What Is Man But A Little Soul Holding Up A Corpse?

The Howling Pariah Dogs, The Cocks That Herald Dawn All Night, The Drumming, The Moaning That Will Be Found Later White Plumage Huddled On Telegraph Wires In Back Gardens Or Fowl Roosting In Apple Trees, The Eternal Sorrow That Never Sleeps Of Great Mexico.

Perhaps His Tragedy Is That He Is The One Normal Writer Left On Earth And It Is This That Adds To His Isolation And So To His Sense Of Guilt.

To Say Nothing Of What You Lose, Lose, Lose, Are Losing, Man. You Fool, You Stupid Fool ... You've Even Been Insulated From The Responsibility Of Genuine Suffering ... Even The Suffering You Do Endure Is Largely Unnecessary. Actually Spurious. It Lacks The Very Basis You Require Of It For Its Tragic Nature. You Deceive Yourself.

Only Against Death Does Man Cry Out In Vain.