If You Analyse Anything, You

The Task Of The Real Intellectual Consists Of Analyzing Illusions In Order To Discover Their Causes.

The Devil Is Precise; The Marks Of His Presence Are Definite As Stone.

There Is A Kind Of Perverse Unity Forming Among Us, Born, I Think, Of The Discontent Of All Classes Of People With The Endless Frustration Of Life.

Most Of The Time We Settle For Half And I Like It Better, Even As I Know How Wrong He Was And His Death Useless, I Tremble For I Confess That Something Peversley Pure Calls To Me From His Memory

Poor Brain! How Helplessly It Dissolves When Willing Eyes Meet And The Nose Warms To Those Old Jungle Scents.