Perfection Is Terrible, It Cannot Have Children.

I've Eaten A Bag Of Green Apples. Boarded The Train, There's No Getting Off

There Is A Certain Unique And Strange Delight About Walking Down An Empty Street Alone.

What I Fear Most, I Think, Is The Death Of The Imagination.

I Didn't Really See Why People Should Look At Me. Plenty Of People Looked Queerer Than I Did.

Happy! That Is Indefinable As Far As States Of Being Go.