I Have An Habitual Feeling Of My

My Mind Has Been The Most Discontented And Restless One That Ever Was Put Into A Body Too Small For It.

Health Is My Expected Heaven.

Some Say The World Is A Vale Of Tears, I Say It Is A Place Of Soul-making.

'tis The Witching Hour Of Night, Orbed Is The Moon And Bright. And The Stars They Glisten, Glisten, Seeming With Bright Eyes To Listen- For What Listen They?

Talking Of Pleasure, This Moment I Was Writing With One Hand, And With The Other Holding To My Mouth A Nectarine - How Good How Fine. It Went Down All Pulpy, Slushy, Oozy, All Its Delicious Embonpoint Melted Down My Throat Like A Large, Beatified Strawberry.