Why Is It That Words Like These

Every Life Is In Many Days, Day After Day. We Walk Through Ourselves, Meeting Robbers, Ghosts, Giants, Old Men, Young Men, Wives, Widows, Brothers-in-love. But Always Meeting Ourselves.

One Great Part Of Every Human Existence Is Passed In A State Which Cannot Be Rendered Sensible By The Use Of Wideawake Language, Cutanddry Grammar And Goahead Plot.

Hell Is The Centre Of Evils And, As You Know, Things Are More Intense At Their Centres Than At Their Remotest Points.

Masturbation! The Amazing Availability Of It!

When I Die Dublin Will Be Written On My Heart.