It Is Only In The Country That

The Lesson One Can Learn From Firbank Is That Of Inconsequence. There Is The Vein Which He Tapped And Which Has Not Yet Been Fully Exploited.

In The Dream Of Approaching Forty I Saw Myself As About To Die And Realized That I Was No Longer Myself, But A Creature Inhabited Entirely By Parasites, As A Caterpillar Is Occupied By The Grubs Of The Ichneumon Fly. Gin, Whisky, Sloth, Fear, Guilt, Tobacco, Had Made Themselves My Inquilines; Alcohol Sloshed About Within, While Tendrils Of Melon And Vine Grew Out Of Ears And Nostrils; My Mind Was A Worn Gramophone Record, My True Self Was Such A Ruin As To Seem Non-existent, And All This Had Happened In The Last Three Years.

Poets Arguing About Modern Poetry: Jackals Snarling Over A Dried-up Well.

Whom The Gods Wish To Destroy They First Call Promising.

It Is A Consolation Of Human Life That The Sick Forget What It Is Like To Feel Well, Or The Miserable To Be Happy.