The Only Sin Is The Sin Of

Habit Is A Great Deadener.

We Always Find Something, Eh Didi, To Let Us Think We Exist?

God Is A Witness That Cannot Be Sworn.

Reality, Whether Approached Imaginatively Or Empirically, Remains A Surface, Hermetic.

All I Know Is What The Words Know, And Dead Things, And That Makes A Handsome Little Sum, With A Beginning And A Middle And An End, As In The Well-built Phrase And The Long Sonata Of The Dead.