I Sit In The Dark. And It

As Failures Go, Attempting To Recall The Past Is Like Trying To Grasp The Meaning Of Existence. Both Make One Feel Like A Baby Clutching At A Basketball: One's Palms Keep Sliding Off.

On The Whole, Love Comes With The Speed Of Light; Separation, With That Of Sound.

Snobbery? But It's Only A Form Of Despair.

In General, With Things Unpleasant, The Rule Is: The Sooner You Hit Bottom, The Faster You Surface.

The Delirium And Horror Of The East. The Dusty Catastrophe Of Asia. Green Only On The Banner Of The Prophet. Nothing Grows Here Except Mustaches.