There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
What do we do now, now that we are happy?
In the name of Bacon will you chicken me up that egg. Shall I swallow cave-phantoms?
I know those little phrases that seem so innocuous, and, once you let them in, pollute the whole of speech. 'Nothing is more real than nothing.' They rise up out of the pit and know no rest until they drag you down into its dark.
The human eyelid is not teartight (happily for the human eye).
Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough for you.