Victorian Society Was Homogeneous Without Being Homogenized.

Lost In Loneliness And Pain. Black And Unendurable, Thinking Of You With Every Corpuscle Of My Flesh, In Every Instant Of Night And Day.

The Meaning Of Life Can Be Revealed But Never Explained.

It Takes Great Labor To Uncover The Convincing Simple Speech Of The Heart. Poetic Candor Comes With Hard Labor, So Even Does Impetuosity And Impudence.

The Dumping Of The Mentally Ill, Full Of These New Psychiatric Drugs, Into The Streets Is A Scandal. It's Been Carried Furthest In New York, Where Whole Sections Of The Decayed Upper West Side Are Being Filled With Pensioners And Psychotic Patients On Stelazine, Lithium Carbonate, And Everything Else Under The Sun. They Can't Diagnose The Patient, So They Give Him The Whole Psychiatric Pharmacopoeia At Once, And He Walks Around In A Psychotic Trance Beautifully Painted All Over With Petrochemicals.

Art Is The Reasoned Derangement Of The Senses.