I Am The Wilderness Lost In Man.

Life Is Too Fleet For Onomatopoeia.

Why Break The Heart That Never Beat From Love?

And Now, My Poor Old Woman, Why Are You Crying So Bitterly? It Is Autumn. The Leaves Are Falling From The Trees Like Burning Tears- The Wind Howls. Why Must You Mimic Them?

Mount And Begone. The World Awaits You.

Something To Remember, That: Cats For Missiles.