Prisons! Prisons! Prisons, Dungeons, Blessed Places Where

If We Behave Like Those On The Other Side, Then We Are The Other Side. Instead Of Changing The World, All We'll Achieve Is A Reflection Of The One We Want To Destroy.

Ah Those Knock-out Body Fluids: Blood, Sperm, Tears!

There Are Mornings When All Men Experience With Fatigue A Flush Of Tenderness That Makes Them Horny.

Anyone Who's Never Experienced The Pleasure Of Betrayal Doesn't Know What Pleasure Is.

Perhaps All Music, Even The Newest, Is Not So Much Something Discovered As Something That Re-emerges From Where It Lay Buried In The Memory, Inaudible As A Melody Cut In A Disc Of Flesh. A Composer Lets Me Hear A Song That Has Always Been Shut Up Silent Within Me.