Meanwhile myself et cetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera.)

The whole truth... sings only - and all lovers are the song.

An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects

(and from my thighs which shrug and pant a murdering rain leapingly reaches the upward singular deepest flower which she carries in a gesture of her hips)

To be nobody-but-yourself - in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began

Private property began the instant somebody had a mind of his own.