My Name Is Only An Anagram Of

For Us, There Is Only The Trying. The Rest Is Not Our Business.

Hell Is Oneself, Hell Is Alone, The Other Figures In It Merely Projections. There Is Nothing To Escape From And Nothing To Escape To. One Is Always Alone.

The Usual Dog About The Town Is Much Inclined To Play The Clown.

Because These Wings Are No Longer Wings To Fly But Merely Vans To Beat The Air The Air Which Is Now Thoroughly Small And Dry Smaller And Dryer Than The Will Teach Us To Care And Not To Care Teach Us To Sit Still

Our Lives Are Mostly A Constant Evasion Of Ourselves, And Of Our Visible, Sensible World.