The Artist Is Extremely Lucky

I Think That What Happens In My Poetic Work In The Future Will Depend On My Being Knocked In The Face, And Thrown Flat, And Given Cancer, And All Kinds Of Other Things Short Of Senile Dementia.

We Are Using Our Own Skins For Wallpaper And We Cannot Win.

Ever To Confess You're Bored Means You Have No Inner Resources.

The Artist Is Extremely Lucky Who Is Presented With The Worst Possible Ordeal Which Will Not Actually Kill Him. At That Point, He's In Business.

Bats Have No Bankers And They Do Not Drink And Cannot Be Arrested And Pay No Tax And, In General, Bats Have It Made.