Equality Is A Mortuary Word.

The Skirts Of The Gods Drag In Our Mud. We Feel The Touch And Take It To Be A Kiss.

How Can A Man Learn Navigation Where There's No Rudder?

In Our Plain Defects We Already Know The Brotherhood Of Man.

My Trouble Is I'm The Sort Of Writer Who Only Finds Out What He's Getting At By The Time He's Got To The End Of It.

Where In This Small-talking World Can I Find A Longitude With No Platitude?