The Only Consistent People Are The Dead

Reality, No Matter How Utopian, Seems To Be Something People Need To Frequently Take A Holiday From.

We Don't Want To Change. Every Change Is A Menace To Stability.

Which Is Better: To Have Fun With Fungi Or To Have Idiocy With Ideology, To Have Wars Because Of Words, To Have Tomorrow's Misdeeds Out Of Yesterday's Miscreeds?

Hell Is The Incapacity To Be Other Than The Creature One Finds Oneself Ordinarily Behaving As.

No Romeo-and-juliet Acts, No Nonsense About Love With A Large L, None Of That Popular Song Claptrap With Its Skies Of Blue, Dreams Come True, Heaven With You. Just Sensuality For Its Own Sake.