It Takes Only One Child To Raze

Resistance To Team Play Seemed To Pour Like Wet Cement Through My Bones, Displacing Supple Marrow, Until I Was Ballasted With My Own Contempt.

I Don't Suffer Fools, And I Like To See Fools Suffer.

The Copyeditor I Drew Was A Brachycephalic, Web-footed Cretin Who Should Have Been In An Institution Learning How To Make Brooms.

Gradually My Whole Concept Of Time Changed Until I Thought Of A Month As Having Twenty-five Days Of Humanness And Five Others When I Might Just As Well Have Been An Animal In A Steel Trap.

Why Do I Hate People? Who Else Is There To Hate?