I Want A Lot To Eat, I'm

The Earth Swirls Down Through The Ominous Moons Of Preconsidered Generations.

The Sun Sank With A Sob And Darkness Waded In From All Horizons So That The Sky Contracted And There Was No More Light Left In The World, When, At This Very Moment Of Annihilation, The Moon, As Though She Had Been Waiting For Her Cue, Sailed Up The Night.

There Is A Kind Of Laughter That Sickens The Soul. Laughter When It Is Out Of Control: When It Screams And Stamps Its Feet, And Sets The Bells Jangling In The Next Town. Laughter In All Its Ignorance And Cruelty. Laughter With The Seed Of Satan In It. It Tramples Upon Shrines; The Belly-roarer. It Roars, It Yells, It Is Delirious: And Yet It Is As Cold As Ice. It Has No Humor. It Is Naked Noise And Naked Malice.

[peake's Books] Are Actual Additions To Life; They Give, Like Certain Rare Dreams, Sensations We Never Had Before, And Enlarge Our Conception Of The Range Of Possible Experience.

Life Is Too Fleet For Onomatopoeia.