The Most Malicious God Is The God

Good Moods’re As Fragile As Eggs...bad Moods’re As Fragile As Bricks.

The Her That Lived In Her Looked Out Through Her Eyes, Through My Eyes, And At The Me That Lives In Me.

But No, We Cross, Crisscross, And Recross Our Old Tracks Like Figure Skaters.

Lunatics Are Writers Whose Works Write Them.

How Vulgar, This Hankering After Immortality, How Vain, How False. Composers Are Merely Scribblers Of Cave Paintings. One Writes Music Because Winter Is Eternal And Because, If One Didn't, The Wolves And Blizzards Would Be At One's Throat All The Sooner.