It's always our touches of vanity that manage to betray us.
Comedy is an escape, not from truth but from despair; a narrow escape into faith.
Where in this small-talking world can I find A longitude with no platitude?
The dark is light enough.
How can we be scrupulous In a life which, from birth onwards, is so determined To wring us dry of any serenity at all?
The moon is nothing But a circumambulating aphrodisiac Divinely subsidized to provoke the world Into a rising birth-rate