A Study Of The Great Malady; Horror

Nature... Is Nothing But The Inner Voice Of Self-interest.

There Is No Such Thing As A Long Piece Of Work, Except One That You Dare Not Start.

And, Drunk With My Own Madness, I Shouted At Him Furiously, "make Life Beautiful! Make Life Beautiful!

There Is A Word, In A Verb, Something Sacred Which Forbids Us From Using It Recklessly. To Handle A Language Cunningly Is To Practice A Kind Of Evocative Sorcery.

It Is The Pleasure Of Astonishing Others, And The Proud Satisfaction Of Never Being Astonished By Them.