The Prison Is The State Writ Small.

Death Is Hacking Away At My Address Book And Party Lists.

The Little Suckings And Smackings Of The Perversions Are The Sounds Of Joyous Infancy.

Many Count On Their Disadvantages To Cover For Them.

I Do Not Remember Joy Or Sorrow In Childhood, But Listening For Clues.

Silence Kills Scandal.