All In All, Death Is Something Like

So Many Vaginas, Stomachs, Cocks, Snouts, And Flies You Don't Know What To Do With Them ... Shovelsfull! ... But Hearts? ... Very Rare! In The Last Five Hundred Million Years Too Many Cocks And Gastric Tubes To Count ... But Hearts? ... On Your Fingers!.

The Poetry Of Heroism Appeals Irresistibly To Those Who Don't Go To A War, And Even More To Those Whom The War Is Making Enormously Wealthy. It's Always So.

Living, Just By Itself - What A Dirge That Is! Life Is A Classroom And Boredom's The Usher, There All The Time To Spy On You; Whatever Happens, You've Got To Look As If You Were Awfully Busy All The Time Doing Something That's Terribly Exciting - Or He'll Come Along And Nibble Your Brain.

You Can Lose Your Way Groping Among The Shadows Of The Past.

I Crawled Back Into Myself All Alone, Just Delighted To Observe That I Was Even More Miserable Than Before, Because I Had Brought A New Kind Of Distress And Something That Resembled True Feeling Into My Solitude.