With Out Some Kind Of God, Man

I Take As Metaphysical Poetry That In Which What Is Ordinarily Apprehensible Only By Thought Is Brought Within The Grasp Of Feeling, Or That In Which What Is Ordinarily Only Felt Is Transformed Into Thought Without Ceasing To Be Feeling.

All Dash To And Fro In Motor Cars. Familiar With The Roads And Settled Nowhere.

The End Is Where We Start From.

The Nobel Is A Ticket To One's Own Funeral. No One Has Ever Done Anything After He Got It.

O Dark Dark Dark. They All Go Into The Dark, The Vacant Interstellar Spaces, The Vacant Into The Vacant