Stupidity Always Accompanies Evil. Or Evil, Stupidity.

I Hope That One Or Two Immortal Lyrics Will Come Out Of All This Tumbling Around.

I Have Lost Faith In Universal Panaceas - Work Is The One Thing In Which I Really Believe.

The Intellectual Is A Middle-class Product; If He Is Not Born Into The Class He Must Soon Insert Himself Into It, In Order To Exist. He Is The Fine Nervous Flower Of The Bourgeoisie.

Your Work Is Carved Out Of Agony As A Statue Is Carved Out Of Marble.

Song, Like A Wing, Tears Through My Breast, My Side, And Madness Chooses Out My Voice Again, Again.