Like The Bee Its Sting, The Promiscuous

Greed, Like The Love Of Comfort, Is A Kind Of Fear.

An Aesthetic Movement With A Revolutionary Dynamism And No Popular Appeal Should Proceed Quite Otherwise Than By Public Scandal, Publicity Stunt, Noisy Expulsion And Excommunication.

The American Language Is In A State Of Flux Based Upon Survival Of The Unfittest.

If Our Elaborate And Dominating Bodies Are Given Us To Be Denied At Every Turn, If Our Nature Is Always Wrong And Wicked, How Ineffectual We Are; Like Fishes Not Meant To Swim.

We Love But Once, For Once Only Are We Perfectly Equipped For Loving.