To Achieve Harmony In Bad Taste Is

Betrayal Is Beautiful.

The Despondency That Follows Makes Me Feel Somewhat Like A Shipwrecked Man Who Spies A Sail, Sees Himself Saved, And Suddenly Remembers That The Lens Of His Spyglass Has A Flaw, A Blurred Spot -- The Sail He Has Seen.

The Time For Reasoning Is Past; Now's The Time To Get Steamed Up And Fight Like Mad.

Ah Those Knock-out Body Fluids: Blood, Sperm, Tears!

A Great Wind Swept Over The Ghetto, Carrying Away Shame, Invisibility And Four Centuries Of Humiliation. But When The Wind Dropped People Saw It Had Been Only A Little Breeze, Friendly, Almost Gentle.