There Are Few Things In

Everywhere I've Turned Somebody Has Wanted To Sacrifice Me For My Own Good—only /they/ Were The Ones Who Benefited. And Now We Start On The Old Sacrificial Merry-go-round. At What Point Do We Stop?

There Must Be Possible A Fiction Which, Leaving Sociology And Case Histories To The Scientists, Can Arrive At The Truth About The Human Condition, Here And Now, With All The Bright Magic Of The Fairy Tale.

When I Discover Who I Am, I'll Be Free.

And My Problem Was That I Always Tried To Go In Everyone's Way But My Own.

The Clock Ticked With Empty Urgency, As Though Trying To Catch Up With The Time. In The Street A Siren Howled.