From My Weakness, I Drew Strength That

If A Writer Disbelieves What He Is Writing, Then He Can Hardly Expect His Reader To Believe It.

Then He Reflected That Reality Does Not Usually Coincide With Our Anticipation Of It; With A Logic Of His Own He Inferred That To Forsee A Circumstantial Detail Is To Prevent Its Happening. Trusting In This Weak Magic, He Invented, So That They Would Not Happen, The Most Gruesome Details.

Soccer Is Popular Because Stupidity Is Popular.

Best Thing To Happen For A Poet. A Fine Death, No? An Impressive Death.

Perhaps The Apparent Favor Of The Universe Is No More Than The Crocodile Grin Of A Doberman Breathing Hard And About To Be Hungry?