How Hideous Is The Semicolon.

Poets Are The Sense, Philosophers­­ The Intelligence­­ Of Humanity.

The Tears Stream Down My Cheeks From My Unblinking Eyes. What Makes Me Weep So? There Is Nothing Saddening Here. Perhaps It Is Liquefied Brain.

Imagination At Wit's End Spreads Its Sad Wings.

Let Us Do Something, While We Have The Chance! ... Let Us Make The Most Of It, Before It Is Too Late! Let Us Represent Worthily For One The Foul Brood To Which A Cruel Fate Consigned Us!

Dear Incomprehension, It's Thanks To You I'll Be Myself, In The End.