I Grew Up In The Golden Age

If We Were All On Trial For Our Thoughts, We Would All Be Hanged.

What Fabrications They Are, Mothers. Scarecrows, Wax Dolls For Us To Stick Pins Into, Crude Diagrams. We Deny Them An Existence Of Their Own, We Make Them Up To Suit Ourselves -- Our Own Hungers, Our Own Wishes, Our Own Deficiencies.

You Can Only Be Jealous Of Someone Who Has Something You Think You Ought To Have Yourself.

The Story As Told In The Odyssey Doesn't Hold Water. There Are Too Many Inconsistencies.

The Truly Fearless Think Of Themselves As Normal.