Who apart from ourselves, can see any difference between our victories and our defeats?

The skirts of the gods Drag in our mud. We feel the touch And take it to be a kiss.

My trouble is I'm the sort of writer who only finds out what he's getting at by the time he's got to the end of it.

The moon is nothing But a circumambulating aphrodisiac Divinely subsidized to provoke the world Into a rising birth-rate

Coffee in England is just toasted milk.

The lines marking a penalty area are a disgrace to the playing fields of a public school.

Indulgences, not fulfillment, is what the world Permits us.