The Whole World Is Caught In Her

Why Did I Come Here? I Thought. Why Is It Always Only A Matter Of Choosing Between Something Bad And Something Worse?

I Grow Tired Of 18th Century Moralities In A 20th Century Space-atomic Age

There's No Clarity. There Was Never Meant To Be Clarity.

Writing Is Like Going To Bed With A Beautiful Woman And Afterwards She Gets Up, Goes To Her Purse And Gives Me A Handful Of Money.

I Wish To Weep But Sorrow Is Stupid. I Wish To Believe But Belief Is A Graveyard.