We Must For Dear Life Make Our

I Don't Want Everyone To Like Me; I Should Think Less Of Myself If Some People Did.

The Fatal Futility Of Fact.

In Art Economy Is Always Beauty.

I Recall My Fleeting Instants In Savannah As The Taste Of A Cup Charged To The Brim.

Make Him [the Reader] Think The Evil, Make Him Think It For Himself, And You Are Released From Weak Specifications.