The Villain May Be Good

The Critic Roams Through Culture, Looking For Prey.

The Ravaged Face In The Mirror Hides The Enchanting Youth That Is The Real Me.

Out Of Power, Marxism Can Develop Critical Intelligence; In Power, It Quickly Becomes Stupid.

Young Poets Bewail The Passing Of Love; Old Poets, The Passing Of Time. There Is Surprisingly Little Difference.

Pity Drowns In Numbers.