Sex Is The Sacred Song Of The

Sanity Is A Compromise.

If You Examine The Highest Poetry In The Light Of Common Sense, You Can Only Say That It Is Rubbish; And In Actual Fact You Cannot So Examine It At All, Because There Is Something In Poetry Which Is Not In The Words Themselves, Which Is Not In The Images Suggested By The Words 'o Windy Star Blown Sideways Up The Sky!' True Poetry Is Itself A Magic Spell Which Is A Key To The Ineffable.

Truth! Truth! Truth! Crieth The Lord Of The Abyss Of Hallucinations

By The Power Of Truth, I, While Living, Have Conquered The Universe.

I Will Interpret Every Phenomenon As A Particular Dealing Of God With My Soul