At The Best Of Times, Spring Hurts

Vengeful As Nature Herself, She Loves Her Children Only In Order To Devour Them Better And If She Herself Rips Her Own Veils Of Self-deceit, Mother Perceives In Herself Untold Abysses Of Cruelty As Subtle As It Is Refined.

Mother Goddesses Are Just As Silly A Notion As Father Gods. If A Revival Of The Myths Of These Cults Gives Woman Emotional Satisfaction, It Does So At The Price Of Obscuring The Real Conditions Of Life. This Is Why They Were Invented In The First Place.

The Child's Laughter Is Pure Until He First Laughs At A Clown.

What Do You See When You See Me?' She Asked Him, Burying Her Own Face In His Bosom. 'do You Want The Truth?' She Nodded. 'the Firing Squad.' 'that's Not The Whole Truth. Try Again.' 'insatiability,' He Said With Some Bitterness. 'that's Oblique But Altogether Too Simple. Once More,' She Insisted. 'one More Time.' He Was Silent For Several Minutes. 'the Map Of A Country In Which I Only Exist By Virtue Of The Extravagance Of My Metaphors.' 'now You're Being Too Sophisticated. And, Besides, What Metaphors Do We Have In Common?

The Tiger Will Never Lie Down With The Lamb; He Acknowledges No Pact That Is Not Reciprocal. The Lamb Must Learn To Run With The Tigers.