It Is From The Womb Of Art

He Who Looks Through An Open Window Sees Fewer Things Than He Who Looks Through A Closed Window.

A Study Of The Great Malady; Horror Of Home.

Today I Had A Strange Warning. I Felt The Wind Of Insanity Brush My Mind.

My Love, Do You Recall The Object Which We Saw, That Fair, Sweet, Summer Morn! At A Turn In The Path A Foul Carcass On A Gravel Strewn Bed, Its Legs Raised In The Air, Like A Lustful Woman, Burning And Dripping With Poisons, Displayed In A Shameless, Nonchalant Way Its Belly, Swollen With Gases.

A Man Who Drinks Only Water Has A Secret To Hide From His Fellow Men.