Emigrate Or Degenerate.

Giving Me A A New Idea Is Like Handing A Cretin A Gun, But I Do Thank You Anyhow, Bang Bang.

Death Hides Within Every Religion. And At Any Time It Can Flash Forth-not With Healing In Its Wings But With Poison, With That Which Wounds.

In This Dark World Where He Now Dwelt, Ugly Things And Surprising Things And Once In A Long While A Tiny Wondrous Thing Spilled Out At Him Constantly; He Could Count On Nothing.

For Each Person There Is A Sentence—a Series Of Words—which Has The Power To Destroy Them.

Men And The World Are Mutually Toxic To Each Other.