It Is Through The Cracks In Our

Self-respecting People Do Not Care To Peep At Their Reflections In Unexpected Mirrors, Or To See Themselves As Others See Them.

We Need Two Kinds Of Acquaintances, One To Complain To, While To The Others We Boast.

Money And Sex Are Forces Too Unruly For Our Reason; They Can Only Be Controlled By Taboos With Which We Tamper At Our Peril.

Our Names Are Labels, Plainly Printed On The Bottled Essence Of Our Past Behavior.

All My Life, As Down An Abyss Without A Bottom. I Have Been Pouring Van Loads Of Information Into That Vacancy Of Oblivion I Call My Mind.