To Hell With Facts! We

Lsd Lets You In On Something. When You're Tripping, The Idea Of Race Disappears; The Idea Of Sex Disappears; You Don't Even Know What Species You Are Sometimes. And I Don't Know Of Anybody Who Hasn't Come Back From That Being More Humane, More Thoughtful, More Understanding.

Alongside The Statement About One Man's Poison Being Another Man's High, One Might As Well Add That One Man's Saint Can Be Another Man's Sore And One Man's Hero Can Turn Out To Be That Man's Biggest Hangup.

You Had A Choice: You Could Either Strain And Look At Things That Appeared In Front Of You In The Fog, Painful As It Might Be, Or You Could Relax And Lose Yourself

The Reverberation Often Exceeds Through Silence The Sound That Sets It Off; The Reaction Occasionally Outdoes By Way Of Repose The Event That Stimulated It; And The Past Not Uncommonly Takes A While To Happen, And Some Long Time To Figure Out.

There's No Disgrace In Failing, Lad, Though Friends And Foes Deride; In Fact, A Failure's Not So Bad As Never Having Tried.