Who Is It That Can Tell Me

What Is Aught But As 'tis Valued?

It Is The Stars, The Stars Above Us, Govern Our Conditions.

What Have We Here? A Man Or A Fish? Dead Or Alive? A Fish: He Smells Like A Fish; A Very Ancient And Fishlike Smell; A Kind Of Not Of The Newest Poor-john. A Strange Fish!

The Expedition Of My Violent Love Outrun The Pauser, Reason.

Dreams Are The Children Of Idled Minds.