One Knows One's Madnesses, By And Large.

I Don’t Know Where The Universe Came From Or What Happens To Creatures When They Die. I Don’t Know If The Whole Thing’s An Unravelling Accident Or An Inscrutable Design. I Don’t Know How One Should Live—but I Know That One Should Live, If One Can Possibly Bear It.

The Rain's Been Racing Earthwards As If With Some Religious Or Political Fanaticism. The Clouds Have The Look Of Dark Internal Bleeding. Surely You Lot Look Up From Cosmo While This Sort Of Thing's Going On? Surely You Take A Playstation Break?

No Amount Of Violence You've Done To Others Prepares You For Violence Done To Yourself.

Nothing Holds Love Together Like Shared Vice Or Collusive Perversion.

My Parents Believe In The Happy Endings To The Stories Of Their Children.