The World Is Mud-luscious And

A Pretty Girl Who Is Naked / Is Worth A Million Statues

I Am Someone Who Proudly And Humbly Affirms That Love Is The Mystery-of-mysteries, And That Nothing Measurable Matters 'a Very Good God Damn'; That 'an Artist, A Man, A Failure' Is No Mere Whenfully Accreting Mechanism, But A Givingly Eternal Complexity-neither Some Soulless And Heartless Ultrapredatory Infra-animal Nor Any Understandingly Knowing And Believing And Thinking Automaton, But A Naturally And Miraculously Whole Human Being-a Feelingly Illimitable Individual; Whose Only Happiness Is To Transcend Himself, Whose Every Agony Is To Grow.

Every Artist's Strictly Illimitable Country Is Himself. An Artist Who Plays That Country False Has Committed Suicide; And Even A Good Lawyer Cannot Kill The Dead. But A Human Being Who's True To Himself - Whoever Himself May Be - Is Immortal; And All The Atomic Bombs Of All The Antiartists In Spacetime Will Never Civilize Immortality.

I'm Living So Far Beyond My Income That We May Almost Be Said To Be Living Apart.

Nobody Loses All The Time.