Cruelty, As A Fine Art, Has Attained

A Bone To The Dog Is Not Charity. Charity Is The Bone Shared With The Dog, When You Are Just As Hungry As The Dog.

I Remembered My Days And Nights Of Sunshine And Starshine, Where Life Was All A Wild Sweet Wonder, A Spiritual Paradise Of Unselfish Adventure And Ethical Romance. And I Saw Before Me, Ever Blazing And Burning, The Holy Grail.

It Is A Simple Matter To See The Obvious, To Do The Expected. The Tendency Of The Individual Life Is To Be Static Rather Than Dynamic, And This Tendency Is Made Into A Propulsion By Civilization, Where The Obvious Only Is Seen, And The Unexpected Rarely Happens. When The Unexpected Does Happen, However, And When It Is Of Sufficiently Grave Import, The Unfit Perish. They Do Not See What Is Not Obvious, Are Unable To Do The Unexpected, Are Incapable Of Adjusting Their Well-grooved Lives To Other And Strange Grooves. In Short, When They Come To The End Of Their Own Groove, They Die.

You Stand On Dead Men's Legs. You've Never Had Any Of Your Own. You Couldn't Walk Alone Between Two Sunrises And Hustle The Meat For Your Belly

If Cash Comes With Fame, Come Fame; If Cash Comes Without Fame, Come Cash.