Unable To Do Away With

Everything For Me Becomes Allegory

An Oasis Of Horror In A Desert Of Boredom.

The Devil Pulls The Strings Which Make Us Dance; We Find Delight In The Most Loathsome Things; Some Furtherance Of Hell Each New Day Brings, And Yet We Feel No Horror In That Rank Advance.

What Is Irritating About Love Is That It Is A Crime That Requires An Accomplice.

Let Us Beware Of Common Folk, Of Common Sense, Of Sentiment, Of Inspiration, And Of The Obvious.