Life Is A Joke That's Just Begun.

You Must Lie Upon The Daisies And Discourse In Novel Phrases Of Complicated State Of Mind. The Meaning Doesn't Matter If It's Only Idle Chatter Of A Transcendental Kind.

To Sit In Solemn Silence On A Dull, Dark Dock In A Pestilential Prison With A Life-long Lock Awaiting The Sensation Of A Short, Sharp Shock From A Cheap And Chippy Chopper On A Big, Black Block.

Life's Perhaps The Only Riddle That We Shrink From Giving Up.

I See No Objection To Stoutness, In Moderation.

Oh, Wouldn't The World Seem Dull And Flat With Nothing Whatever To Grumble At?