Funerals Often Make Us Want Sex-it's One

I Am The Dragon, And You Call Me Insane.

In The Vaults Of Our Hearts And Brains, Danger Waits. All The Chambers Are Not Lovely, Light And High. There Are Holes In The Floor Of The Mind, Like Those In A Medieval Dungeon Floor - The Stinking Oubliettes, Named For Forgetting, Bottle-shaped Cells In Solid Rock With The Trapdoor In The Top. Nothing Escapes From Them Quietly To Ease Us. A Quake, Some Betrayal By Our Safeguards, And Sparks Of Memory Fire The Noxious Gases - Things Trapped For Years Fly Free, Ready To Explode In Pain And Drive Us To Dangerous Behavior.

Good-bye Clarice. Will You Let Me Know If Ever The Lambs Stop Screaming?" "yes." Pembry Was Taking Her Arm. It Was Go Or Fight Him. "yes," She Said. "i'll Tell You." "do You Promise?""yes.

On A Related Subject, Signore Pazzi, I Must Confess To You: I'm Giving Serious Thought To Eating Your Wife.

Because It's His Bad Luck To Be The Best.