A Strange Thing Has Happened,

Everything Being A Constant Carnival, There Is No Carnival Left.

Seeing So Much Poverty Everywhere Makes Me Think That God Is Not Rich. He Gives The Appearance Of It, But I Suspect Some Financial Difficulties.

A Fall From Such A Height Is Rarely Straight Downwards.

O Darkness, The Sky Is A Gloomy Precinct Whose Door You Close, And Whose Key The Soul Owns; And Night Divides Itself In Half, Being Diabolical And Holy, Between Ilis, The Black Angel, And Christ, The Starry Human Being.

Algebra Applies To The Clouds.