In Art As In Lovemaking,

The Story Of Your Life Is Not Your Life; It's Your Story.

Self Knowledge Is Always Bad News.

You Don't Reach Serendib By Plotting A Course For It. You Have To Set Out In Good Faith For Elsewhere And Lose Your Bearings... Serendipitously.

Tis E'er The Lot Of The Innocent In The World, To Fly To The Wolf For Succor From The Lion.

The Genie Declared That In His Time And Place There Were Scientists Of The Passions Who Maintained That Language Itself, On The One Hand, Originated In 'infantile Pregenital Erotic Exuberance, Polymorphously Perverse,' And That Conscious Attention, On The Other, Was A 'libidinal Hypercathexis' - By Which Magic Phrases They Seemed To Mean That Writing And Reading, Or Telling And Listening, Were Literally Ways Of Making Love.