M Is For Marx And Clashing Of

Beneath A Mask Of Selfish Tranquility Nothing Exists Except Bitterness And Boredom. I Am One Of Those Whom Suffering Has Made Empty And Frivolous: Each Night In My Dreams I Pull The Scab Off A Wound; Each Day, Vacuous And Habit-ridden, I Help It Re-form.

Whom The Gods Wish To Destroy They First Call Promising.

Most Of The Beauty Of Women Evaporates When They Achieve Domestic Happiness At The Price Of Their Independence.

That Sinister Stonehenge Of Economic Man, Rockefeller Center.

If Our Elaborate And Dominating Bodies Are Given Us To Be Denied At Every Turn, If Our Nature Is Always Wrong And Wicked, How Ineffectual We Are; Like Fishes Not Meant To Swim.