Satan, Really, Is The Romantic Youth Of

This Race And This Country And This Life Produced Me, He Said. I Shall Express Myself As I Am.

Alone, What Did Bloom Feel? The Cold Of Interstellar Space, Thousands Of Degrees Below Freezing Point Or The Absolute Zero Of Fahrenheit, Centigrade Or Réaumur: The Incipient Intimations Of Proximate Dawn.

One Great Part Of Every Human Existence Is Passed In A State Which Cannot Be Rendered Sensible By The Use Of Wideawake Language, Cutanddry Grammar And Goahead Plot.

It Is As Painful Perhaps To Be Awakened From A Vision As To Be Born.

What Did It Avail To Pray When He Knew His Soul Lusted After Its Own Destruction?