The World Is A Raving Idiot, And

Along The Avenue Of Cypresses, All In Their Scarlet Cloaks And Surplices Of Linen, Go The Chanting Choristers, The Priests In Gold And Black, The Villagers. . . .

Let Yourself Fall In Love. If You Have Not Done So Already, You Are Wasting Your Life.

Since Obscenity Is The Truth Of Our Passion Today, It Is The Only Stuff Of Art -- Or Almost The Only Stuff.

Whether I Get On In The World Is A Question; But I Certainly Don't Get On Very Well With The World.

I Got The Blues Thinking Of The Future, So I Left Off And Made Some Marmalade. It's Amazing How It Cheers One Up To Shred Orange And Scrub The Floor.