But The Body Is Deeper Than The

Truth Is A Flower In Whose Neighbourhood Others Must Wither.

A Sentence Begins Quite Simply, Then It Undulates And Expands, Parentheses Intervene Like Quick-set Hedges, The Flowers Of Comparison Bloom, And Three Fields Off, Like A Wounded Partridge, Crouches The Principal Verb, Making One Wonder As One Picks It Up, Poor Little Thing, Whether After All It Was Worth Such A Tramp, So Many Guns, And Such Expensive Dogs, And What, After All, Is Its Relation To The Main Subject, Potted So Gaily Half A Page Back, And Proving Finally To Have Been In The Accusative Case.

Excuse My Mistakes, Realize My Limitations. Life Is Not Easy As We Know It On The Earth.

The Strong Are So Stupid.

I Would Rather Be A Coward Than Brave Because People Hurt You When You Are Brave.