There’s No Doubt In My Mind That

You Seem To Forget, Miss Flinn, That This Is An Institution For The Insane.

Tricker The Squirrel Is The Best Piece I Ever Wrote. It's Intricate.

You Had A Choice: You Could Either Strain And Look At Things That Appeared In Front Of You In The Fog, Painful As It Might Be, Or You Could Relax And Lose Yourself

This World Belongs To The Strong, My Friend! The Ritual Of Our Existence Is Based On The Strong Getting Stronger By Devouring The Weak. We Must Face Up To This. No More Than Right That It Should Be This Way. We Must Learn To Accept It As A Law Of The Natural World. The Rabbits Accept Their Role In The Ritual And Recognize The Wolf As The Strong. In Defense, The Rabbit Becomes Sly And Frightened And Elusive And He Digs Holes And Hides When The Wolf Is About. And He Endures, He Goes On. He Knows His Place. He Most Certainly Doesn't Challenge The Wolf To Combat. Now, Would That Be Wise? Would It?

I've Never Seen Crack Or A Lot Of These New Drugs. Don't Know Anything About Them. I Don't Know What They Do For You, Or Whether They Do Anything Good For You Or Not. But I Do Still Have A Lot Of Faith In The Spiritual Purity Of Lsd And Pot.