The Suburbs: Signs Of Life, But No

The Mind Scolds The Heart, Which Makes Excuses And Goes Its Own Way.

No Matter How Close Thought Sticks To The Actual, It Follows Its Own Rules.

Passion Cooks. Reason Cleans.

The Little Suckings And Smackings Of The Perversions Are The Sounds Of Joyous Infancy.

My Intentions Go One Way, My Desires Another. Thus I Feel Both Self-indulgent And Deprived.