Yet The Order Of The Acts Is

The Last Moments Slipped By, One By One, Irretrievable.

I Have The Impression That If He Didn't Complicate His Life So Needlessly, He Would Die Of Boredom.

That's Metaphysics, My Dear Fellow. It's Forbidden Me By My Doctor, My Stomach Won't Take It.

No Bad Man Can Be A Good Poet.

Art Has Two Constant, Two Unending Concerns: It Always Meditates On Death And Thus Always Creates Life. All Great, Genuine Art Resembles And Continues The Revelation Of St John.