How, Unless You Drink As I Do,

I Like Prefaces. I Read Them. Sometimes I Do Not Read Any Further.

Muzzle A Dog And He Will Bark Out Of The Other End.

Only Against Death Does Man Cry Out In Vain.

How, Unless You Drink As I Do, Could You Hope To Understand The Beauty Of An Old Indian Woman Playing Dominoes With A Chicken?

No, My Secrets Are Of The Grave And Must Be Kept. And This Is How I Sometimes Think Of Myself, As A Great Explorer Who Has Discovered Some Extraordinary Land From Which He Can Never Return To Give His Knowledge To The World: But The Name Of This Land Is Hell.