Art Is Our Defense Against Hysteria And

Teach As An Old Fishing Guide Takes Out A Beginner.

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.

Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My Joy.

By Daily Dying, I Have Come To Be.

How Terrible The Need For God.