Perhaps When Distant People On

All Artists Dream Of A Silence Which They Must Enter, As Some Creatures Return To The Sea To Spawn.

Oh The Piercing Sadness Of Life In The Midst Of Its Ordinariness!

... Half The World Starves. What A Planet. And The Eating, If You're Lucky Enough To Do Any. Stuffing Pieces Of Dead Animals Into A Hole In Your Face. Then Munch, Munch, Munch. If There's Anybody Watching, They Must Be Dying Of Laughter.

People Who Boast Of Happy Marriages Are, I Submit, Usually Self-deceivers, If Not Actually Liars.

In Philosophy If You Aren't Moving At A Snail's Pace You Aren't Moving At All.