So First, Your Memory I'll Jog, And

It Is Worth While Dying, To Find Out What Life Is.

Anxiety Is The Hand Maiden Of Creativity.

Wait Without Thought, For You Are Not Ready For Thought.

The Dripping Blood Our Only Drink, The Bloody Flesh Our Only Food: In Spite Of Which We Like To Think That We Are Sound, Substantial Flesh And Blood Again, In Spite Of That, We Call This Friday Good.

Paint Me The Bold Anfractuous Rocks Faced By The Snarled And Yelping Seas.