We Are Using Our Own Skins For

Them Lady Poets Must Not Marry, Pal.

Ever To Confess You're Bored Means You Have No Inner Resources.

Praise Will Lead You To Vanity, And Blame Will Lead You To Self-pity, And Both Are Bad For Writers.

Life, Friends, Is Boring. We Must Not Say So. After All, The Sky Flashes, The Great Sea Yearns, We Ourselves Flash And Yearn, And Moreover My Mother Told Me As A Boy (repeatedly) 'ever To Confess You're Bored Means You Have No Inner Resources.' I Conclude Now I Have No Inner Resources, Because I Am Heavy Bored.

Life, Friends, Is Boring. We Must Not Say So. After All, The Sky Flashes, The Great Sea Yearns, We Ourselves Flash And Yearn