Not until it starts to stink does the inevitable happen.

I lost my ridiculous accent without acquiring another

Somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you, At incredible speed, traveling day and night.

Each servant stamps the reader with a look.

Most reckless things are beautiful in some way, and recklessness is what makes experimental art beautiful, just as religions are beautiful because of the strong possibilities that they are founded on nothing.

Part of the strength of Pollock and Rothko's art, in fact, is this doubt as to whether art may be there at all.

Its a bit mad. Too bad, I mean, that getting to know each just for a fleeting second Must be replaced by unperfect knowledge of the featureless whole Like some pocket history of the world, so general As to constitute a sob or wail