Geniuses Are Like Ocean Liners: They Should

Your Imagination, My Dear Fellow, Is Worth More Than You Imagine.

What On Earth Is Modern Exegesis Up To? Oh, Little Lazy One! Some Red Wine And Up! Off You Go, Brandishing Your Fork, Stripped Of Ophelia's Useless Ornaments, Fire In Your Large Nostrils, Out To Rake The Muck Of Metaphors.

Love Is Made By Two People, In Different Kinds Of Solitude. It Can Be In A Crowd, But In An Oblivious Crowd.

Your Heart Like A Hawk-mouth In The Sun, Your Heart Like A Ship On An Atoll, Your Heart Like A Compass Needle Driven Mad By A Little Piece Of Lead, Like Washing Drying In The Wind, Like A Whining Of Horses, Like Seed Thrown To The Birds, Like An Evening Paper One Has Finished Reading! Your Heart Is A Charade That The Whole World Has Guessed.

I Demand That My Books Be Judged With Utmost Severity, By Knowledgeable People Who Know The Rules Of Grammar And Of Logic, And Who Will Seek Beneath The Footsteps Of My Commas The Lice Of My Thought In The Head Of My Style.