We Have Reason To Be Afraid. This

We Are Using Our Own Skins For Wallpaper And We Cannot Win.

Two Daiquiris Withdrew Into A Corner Of A Gorgeous Room And One Told The Other A Lie.

We Must Travel In The Direction Of Our Fear.

I Think That What Happens In My Poetic Work In The Future Will Depend On My Being Knocked In The Face, And Thrown Flat, And Given Cancer, And All Kinds Of Other Things Short Of Senile Dementia.

I Conclude Now I Have No Inner Resources, Because I Am Heavy Bored. Peoples Bore Me, Literature Bores Me, Especially Great Literature.