My God died young. Theolatry i found Degrading, and its premises, unsound. No free man needs God; but was I free?

Our best yesterdays are now foul piles of crumpled names.

I see nothing for the treatment of my misery but the melancholy and very local palliative of articulate art.

My characters are galley slaves.

I think she always nursed a small mad hope.

Stirless, I stand at the window, and in the black bowl of the sky glows like a golden drop of honey the mellow moon

If he failed the first time he took his driver's licence test, it was mainly because he started an argument with the examiner in an ill-timed effort to prove that nothing could be more humiliating to a rational creature than being required to encourage the development of a base conditional reflex by stopping at a red light when there was not an earthly soul around, heeled or wheeled. He was more circumspect the next time, and passed.