Kill Or Be Killed, Eat Or Be

When, On The Still Cold Nights, He Pointed His Nose At A Star And Howled Long And Wolf-like, It Was His Ancestors, Dead And Dust, Pointing Nose At Star And Howling Down Through The Centuries And Through Him. And His Cadences Were Their Cadences, The Cadences Which Voiced Their Woe And What To Them Was The Meaning Of The Stillness, And The Cold, And Dark.

In A Saturated Population Life Is Always Cheap.

If Cash Comes With Fame, Come Fame; If Cash Comes Without Fame, Come Cash.

The Fortunate Man Is The One Who Cannot Take More Than A Couple Of Drinks Without Becoming Intoxicated. The Unfortunate Wight Is The One Who Can Take Many Glasses Without Betraying A Sign; Who Must Take Numerous Glasses In Order To Get The ‘kick’.

He Felt Strangely Numb. As Though From A Great Distance, He Was Aware That He Was Being Beaten. The Last Sensations Of Pain Left Him. He No Longer Felt Anything, Though Very Faintly He Could Hear The Impact Of The Club Upon His Body. But It Was No Longer His Body, It Seemed So Far Away.