O Aching Time! O Moments Big As

Death Is Life's High Meed.

I Equally Dislike The Favor Of The Public With The Love Of A Woman - They Are Both A Cloying Treacle To The Wings Of Independence.

Talking Of Pleasure, This Moment I Was Writing With One Hand, And With The Other Holding To My Mouth A Nectarine - How Good How Fine. It Went Down All Pulpy, Slushy, Oozy, All Its Delicious Embonpoint Melted Down My Throat Like A Large, Beatified Strawberry.

There Is A Budding Morrow In Midnight.

For Axioms In Philosophy Are Not Axioms Until They Are Proved Upon Our Pulses.