Life Is Painful, Nasty And Short.. In

Of Course I Think Of The Past And Of Paris, What Else Is There To Remember?

I Am Not A Critic; To Me Criticism Is So Often Nothing More Than The Eye Garrulously Denouncing The Shape Of The Peephole That Gives Access To Hidden Treasure.

Time Is A Great Conference Planning Our End, And Youth Is Only The Past Putting A Leg Forward.

There's Something Evil In Me That Loves Evil And Degradation--purity's Black Backside! That Loves Honesty With A Horrid Love; Or Why Have I Always Gone Seeking It At The Liar's Door?

I've Seen Death And I Didn't Like It.