Worse Than Not Realizing The Dreams Of

If We Behave Like Those On The Other Side, Then We Are The Other Side. Instead Of Changing The World, All We'll Achieve Is A Reflection Of The One We Want To Destroy.

In Reviewing My Life, In Tracing Its Course, I Fill My Cell With The Pleasure Of Being What For Want Of A Trifle I Failed To Be, Recapturing, So That I May Hurl Myself Into Them As Into Dark Pits, Those Moments When I Strayed Through The Trap-ridden Compartments Of A Subterranean Sky

It's The Hour When Night Breaks Away From The Day, My Dove, Let Me Go.

On Him, Under Him, With His Mouth Pressed To Hers, He Sang To Her Uncouth Songs That Moved Through Her Body.

What We Need Is Hatred. From It Our Ideas Are Born.