Oh, Let Me Be Mawkish For The

All The Information I Have About Myself Is From Forged Documents.

Revelation Can Be More Perilous Than Revolution.

I Have The European Urge To Use My Feet When A Drive Can Be Dispensed With.

That Swimming, Sloping, Elusive Something About The Dark-bluish Tint Of The Iris Which Seemed Still To Retain The Shadows It Had Absorbed Of Ancient, Fabulous Forests Where There Were More Birds Than Tigers And More Fruit Than Thorns, And Where, In Some Dappled Depth, Man's Mind Had Been Born.

The Only Real Number Is One, The Rest Are Mere Repetition