Through The Unknown, We'll Find The New

And, Drunk With My Own Madness, I Shouted At Him Furiously, "make Life Beautiful! Make Life Beautiful!

My Heart Is Lost; The Beasts Have Eaten It.

It Is One Of The Prodigious Privileges Of Art That The Horrific, Artistically Expressed, Becomes Beauty, And That Sorrow, Given Rhythm And Cadence, Fills The Spirit With A Calm Joy.

What Is Exhilarating In Bad Taste Is The Aristocratic Pleasure Of Giving Offense.

I Love The Clouds... The Clouds That Pass By... Over There... Over There... Those Lovely Clouds!