I Gratefully Look Forward To Oblivion, But

But What Was A Body? Dust, Dung, Urine, Itches. It Was The Light Within Which Was Important, And It Was Not Significant If That Light Endured After Death, Or If The Soul Was Blinded Eternally In The Endless Night Of The Suspired Flesh.

Reading, Not Just An Escape, But An Exercise In Living.

. . . A Statement That Is Repugnant To One's Beliefs Can Be As True As One That Is Pleasurable.

My Dreams Are All Follies.

Those Who Claim To Have Had Happy Lives Seem To Be Silly Fools.