Some Tiny Creature, Mad With Wrath, Is

There Was A Young Lady Named Mae Who Smoked Without Stopping All Day; As Pack Followed Pack, Her Lungs First Turned Black, And Eventually Rotted Away.

It's Well We Cannot Hear The Screams We Make In Other People's Dreams.

God Knows, There's Enough To Worry About Without Worrying About Worrying About Things.

If You're Doing Nonsense It Has To Be Rather Awful, Because There'd Be No Point.

Only Art Means Anything.