Experience Is A Dim Lamp, Which Only

Well, You Know... Experience Is A Muffled Lantern That Throws Light Only On The Bearer...it's Incommunicable.

To Hell With Reality! I Want To Die In Music, Not In Reason Or In Prose.

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!.

Reason Died In 1914, November 1914 ... After That Everybody Began To Rave.

I Piss On You All From A Considerable Height.