A Burnt Child Dreads The Fire.

I've Often Thought That There Isn't Any "i" At All; That We Are Simply The Means Of Expression Of Something Else; That When We Think We Are Ourselves, We Are Simply The Victims Of A Delusion.

A Burnt Child Dreads The Fire.

I'm A Poet, And I Like My Lies The Way My Mother Used To Make Them.

Imagine Listening To Beethoven With The Prepossession That C Is A Good Note And F A Bad One; Yet This Is Exactly The Stand Point From Which All Uninitiates Contemplate The Universe. Obviously, They Miss The Music.

Every Man And Every Woman Is A Star.