Even Paranoids Have Real Enemies.

At The Moment I'm So Exhausted That I Feel Like Cutting My Throat, So The Next News Masy Well Be That I Am Across The River And Under The Trees: What Is The Meaning And Purpose Of Life? Death.

Literary Party: A Traffic Jam Of The Lost Waiting For The Ferry Across The Styx.

Is It Not Clear That A Reviewer's Psyche, Like An Iceberg, Is Seven-eighths Beneath The Surface?

Love Is The Tact Of Every Good, The Only Warmth, The Only Peace.

How The False Truths Of The Years Of Youth Have Passed!have Passed At Full Speed Like Trains Which Never Stoppedthere Where I Stood And Waited, Hardly Aware,how Little I Knew, Or Which Of Them Was The Oneto Mount And Ride To Hope Or Where True Hope Arrives.