So Slowly The Hot Elephant Hearts Grow

I Can Only See Death And More Death, Till We Are Black And Swollen With Death.

Creation Destroys As It Goes, Throws Down One Tree For The Rise Of Another. But Ideal Mankind Would Abolish Death, Multiply Itself Million Upon Million, Rear Up City Upon City, Save Every Parasite Alive, Until The Accumulation Of Mere Existence Is Swollen To A Horror.

Censors Are Dead Men Set Up To Judge Between Life And Death. For No Live, Sunny Man Would Be A Censor, He'd Just Laugh.

I Prefer Unlucky Things. Luck Is Vulgar. Who Wants What Luck Would Bring? I Don't.

Be A Good Animal, True To Your Animal Instincts.