I Made Man With Too Many Faults.

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

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

Oh Lion In A Peculiar Guise, Sharp Roman Road To Paradise, Come Eat Me Up, I'll Pay Thy Toll With All My Flesh, And Keep My Soul.

There Can Be No Good Art That Is International. Art To Be Vigorous And Gesund Must Use The Material At Hand.

Oh, No No No, It Was Too Cold Always (still The Dead One Lay Moaning) I Was Much Too Far Out All My Life And Not Waving But Drowning.