The Dead Don't Die. They Look On

The Great Mass Of Humanity Should Never Learn To Read Or Write.

A Woman Needn't Be Dragged Down By Her Functions.

Sex Is The Root Of Which Intuition Is The Foliage And Beauty Is The Flower.

Ah, Then, Upon My Bedroom I Do Draw The Blind To Hide The Garden, Where The Moon Enjoys The Open Blossoms As They Straw Their Beauty For His Taking, Boon For Boon. And I Do Lift My Aching Arms To You, And I Do Lift My Anguished, Avid Breast, And I Do Weep For Very Pain Of You, And Fling Myself At The Doors Of Sleep, For Rest.

God Is Only A Great Imaginative Experience.