I Like Food, I Like Stripping Vegetables

So I Fancy My Muse Says, When I Wish To Die, Oh No, Oh No, We Are Not Yet Friends Enough, And Virtue Also Says: We Are Not Yet Friends Enough.

I Love People, But I Love The Thought And Memory Of Them Just As Much.

I May Be Smelly And I May Be Old, Rough In My Pebbles, Reedy In My Pools, But Where My Fish Float By I Bless Their Swimming, And I Like The People To Bathe In Me Especially Women.

If I Lie Down On My Bed I Must Be Here, But If I Lie Down In My Grave I May Be Elsewhere.

But One Wants The Idea Of Death, You Know, As Something Large And Unknowable, Something That Allows A Person To Stretch Himself Out. Especially One Wants It If One Is Tired. Or Perhaps What One Wants Is Simply A Release From Sensation, From All Consciousness For Ever.