Toil Without Song Is Like A Weary

Heaven Knows Where I'll End Up - But It's A Safe Bet That I'll Never Be At The Top Of Anything! Nor Do I Particularly Care To Be.

Humour Is But The Faint Terrestrial Echo Of The Hideous Laughter Of The Blind Mad Gods That Squat Leeringly And Sardonically In Caverns Beyond The Milky Way. It Is A Hollow Thing, Sweet On The Outside, But Filled With The Pathos Of Fruitless Aspiration.

That Is Not Dead Which Can Eternal Lie, And With Strange Aeons Even Death May Die.

Uncertainty And Danger Are Always Closely Allied, Thus Making Any Kind Of An Unknown World A World Of Peril And Evil Possibilities.

Sometimes I Believe That This Less Material Life Is Our Truer Life, And That Our Vain Presence On The Terraqueous Globe Is Itself The Secondary Or Merely Virtual Phenomenon.