The Ordinary Man Is The Curse Of

We Can Sometimes Recognize The Looks Of A Century Ago On A Modern Face; But Never Those Of A Century To Come.

Which Are You Drinking? The Water Or The Wave?

I Knew Words Were Like Chains, They Held Me Back . . . The Act Of Description Taints The Description.

To Write Poetry And To Commit Suicide, Apparently So Contradictory, Had Really Been The Same, Attempts At Escape.

Piers Is Always Going On About How He Hated Stowe. As If That Solves Everything, As If To Hate Something Means It Can't Have Affected You.