Kill The Pig! Cut His Throat! Kill

Together, Joined In Effort By The Burden, They Staggered Up The Last Steep Of The Mountain. Together, They Chanted One! Two! Three! And Crashed The Log On To The Great Pile. Then They Stepped Back, Laughing With Triumphant Pleasure.

Life's Scientific, But We Don't Know, Do We? Not Certainly, I Mean.

Towards Midnight The Rain Ceased And The Clouds Drifted Away, So That The Sky Was Scattered Once More With The Incredible Lamps Of Stars.

Maybe There Is A Beast… Maybe It's Only Us.

I Think There Might Even Come A Time When I Would Read Virgil Again. Ovid's Metamorphoses, Perhaps, Not Because The Music Goes Round And Round And Never Comes Out, But Because It's An Extraordinary Picture Of Ceaseless Change That Never Comes To An End.