The More One Is Hated, I Find,

All That Makes A Lunatic Are The Very Ordinary Ideas Of Mankind Shut Up Inside A Man's Head.

So Many Vaginas, Stomachs, Cocks, Snouts, And Flies You Don't Know What To Do With Them ... Shovelsfull! ... But Hearts? ... Very Rare! In The Last Five Hundred Million Years Too Many Cocks And Gastric Tubes To Count ... But Hearts? ... On Your Fingers!.

Chin Up, Ferdinand," I Kept Saying To Myself, To Keep Up My Courage. "what With Being Chucked Out Of Everywhere, You're Sure To Find Whatever It Is That Scares All Those Bastards So. It Must Be At The End Of The Night, And That's Why They're So Dead Set Against Going To The End Of The Night.

You Can Lose Your Way Groping Among The Shadows Of The Past. It's Frightening How Many People And Things There Are In A Man's Past That Have Stopped Moving. The Living People We've Lost In The Crypts Of Time Sleep So Soundly Side By Side With The Dead That The Same Darkness Envelops Them All. As We Grow Older, We No Longer Know Whom To Awaken, The Living Or The Dead.

With Two Thousand Years Of Christianity Behind Him... A Man Can't See A Regiment Of Soldiers March Past Without Going Off The Deep End. It Starts Off Far Too Many Ideas In His Head.