But The Problem Is To Make The

The Wolf Howled Under The Leaves And Spit Out The Prettiest Feathers Of His Meal Of Fowl: Like Him I Consume Myself.

Then You'll Feel Your Cheek Scratched... A Little Kiss, Like A Crazy Spider, Will Run Round Your Neck... And You'll Say To Me : "find It !" Bending Your Head - And We'll Take A Long Time To Find That Creature - Which Travels A Lot.

Life Is The Farce Which Everyone Has To Perform.

I Am Alone In Possessing A Key To This Barbarous Sideshow.

What Am I Doing Here?