Spring Was Running In A Thin Green

I Hated The Things They Believe In, The Things They So Innocently And Charmingly Pretended. I Hated The Sanctimonious Piety That Let People Hurt Helpless Creatures. I Hated The Prayers And The Hymns - The Fountains And The Red Images That Coloured Their Drab Music, The Fountains Filled With Blood, The Sacrifice Of The Lamb.

Grandpa Says We've Got Everything To Make Us Happy But Happiness.

Women Love With Their Imagination And Men With Their Senses.

O God, Let Me Write Books! Please, God, Let Me Write Books!

The Hardest Thing For Me Is The Sense Of Impermanence. All Passes; Nothing Returns.