We Are Using Our Own Skins For

I Didn't Want To Be Like Yeats; I Wanted To Be Yeats.

So If I Were Talking To A Young Writer, I Would Recommend The Cultivation Of Extreme Indifference To Both Praise And Blame Because Praise Will Lead You To Vanity, And Blame Will Lead You To Self-pity, And Both Are Bad For Writers.

I Can Offer You Only: This World Like A Knife

These Songs Are Not Meant To Be Understood, You Understand. They Are Only Meant To Terrify & Comfort.

Life, Friends, Is Boring. We Must Not Say So. After All, The Sky Flashes, The Great Sea Yearns, We Ourselves Flash And Yearn, And Moreover My Mother Told Me As A Boy (repeatedly) 'ever To Confess You're Bored Means You Have No Inner Resources.' I Conclude Now I Have No Inner Resources, Because I Am Heavy Bored.