It's Funny How The Colors Of The

I Was Always On My Oddy Knocky.

I Conclude That There Is As Much Sense In Nonsense As There Is Nonsense In Sense.

And, My Brothers, It Was Real Satisfaction To Me To Waltz-left Two Three, Right Two Three-and Carve Left Cheeky And Right Cheeky, So That Like Two Curtains Of Blood Seemed To Pour Out At The Same Time, One On Either Side Of His Fat Filthy Oily Snout In The Winter Starlight.

A Character, To Be Acceptable As More Than A Chess Piece, Has To Be Ignorant Of The Future, Unsure About The Past, And Not At All Sure Of What He's Supposed To Be Doing.

It's Funny How The Colors Of The Real World Only Seem Really Real When You Watch Them On A Screen.