It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.

Wars in old times were made to get slaves. The modern implement of imposing slavery is debt.

All my life I believed I knew something. But then one strange day came when I realized that I knew nothing, yes, I knew nothing. And so words became void of meaning. I have arrived too late at ultimate uncertainty.

Wars are made to make debt.

If a nation's literature declines, the nation atrophies and decays.

I could I trust starve like a gentleman. It's listed as part of the poetic training, you know.

Come, let us pity those who are better off than we are. Come, my friend, and remember that the rich have butlers and no friends, And we have friends and no butlers. (excerpt from 'The Garrett')