We Know That Their Adventures Are Childish.

We Know That Their Adventures Are Childish. They Themselves Are Fools. They Are Ready To Kill Or Be Killed Over A Card-game In Which An Opponent - Or They Themselves - Was Cheating. Yet, Thanks To Such Fellows, Tragedies Are Possible.

The Vaporish Cocaine Loosens The Contours Of Their Lives And Sets Their Bodies Adrift, And So They Are Untouchable.

The Force Of What Was Called Panther Rhetoric Or Word Mongering Resided Not In Elegant Discourse But In Strength Of Affirmation (or Denial), In Anger Of Tone And Timbre. When The Anger Led To Action There Was No Turgidity Or Over-emphasis. Anyone Who Has Witnessed Political Rows Among The Whites Will Have To Admit That The Whites Aren't Overburdened With Poetic Imagination.

When I Beheld You, Suddenly - For Perhaps A Second - I Had The Strength To Reject Everything That Wasn't You And To Laugh At The Illusion. But My Shoulders Are Very Frail. I Was Unable To Bear The Weight Of The World's Condemnation. And I Began To Hate You When Everything About You Would Have Kindled My Love And When Love Would Have Made Men's Contempt Unbearable, And Their Contempt Would Have Made My Love Unbearable. The Fact Is, I Hate You.

Solitude, As I Understand It, Does Not Signify An Unhappy State, But Rather Secret Royalty, Profound Incommunicability Yet A More Or Less Obscure Knowledge Of An Invulnerable Singularity.