I Am Not, And Never Was, And

All The Information I Have About Myself Is From Forged Documents.

In This Crazy Mirror Of Terror And Art A Pseudo-quotation Made Up Of Obscure Shakespeareanisms (chapter Three) Somehow Produces, Despite Its Lack Of Literal Meaning, The Blurred Diminutive Image Of The Acrobatic Performance That So Gloriously Supplies The Bravura Ending For The Next Chapter.

There Is Nothing More Atrociously Cruel Than An Adored Child.

Life Is Just One Small Piece Of Light Between Two Eternal Darknesses.

Let The Credulous And The Vulgar Continue To Believe That All Mental Woes Can Be Cured By A Daily Application Of Old Greek Myths To Their Private Parts.