Once Any Tyranny Becomes Accepted As Ordinary,

To Fool A Judge, Feign Fascination, But To Bamboozle The Whole Court, Feign Boredom.

Go To Hell, Willy, Our Souls Eat Poetry, But One Has Seven Deadly Sins To Feed!

What Wouldn't I Give Now For A Never-changing Map Of The Ever-constant Ineffable? To Possess, As It Were, An Atlas Of Clouds.

I'm Not A Great Deep Political Thinker.

One Cannot Pass By Without Thinking Of The Density Of Men In The Ground.