I Didn't Think; I Experimented.

Women Thrive On Novelty And Are Easy Meat For The Commerce Of Fashion. Men Prefer Old Pipes And Torn Jackets.

Literature Is All, Or Mostly, About Sex.

The Unconscious Mind Has A Habit Of Asserting Itself In The Afternoon.

Each Man Kills The Thing He Loves.

Then, Brothers, It Came. Oh, Bliss, Bliss And Heaven. I Lay All Nagoy To The Ceiling, My Gulliver On My Rookers On The Pillow, Glazzies Closed, Rot Open In Bliss, Slooshying The Sluice Of Lovely Sounds. Oh, It Was Gorgeousness And Gorgeosity Made Flesh.