If You Stay Still, Earth Buries You,

These Are Our Few Live Seasons. Let Us Live Them As Purely As We Can, In The Present.

What Could You Say To A Dying Person That Would Not Enrage By Its Triviality?

We Are Most Deeply Asleep At The Switch When We Fancy We Control Any Switches At All.

Even If Things Are As Bad As They Could Possible Be, And As Meaningless, Then Matters Of Truth Are Themselves Indifferent; We May As Well Please Our Sensibilities And, With As Much Spirit As We Can Muster, Go Out With A Buck And A Wing.

It Is Madness To Wear Ladies' Straw Hats And Velvet Hats To Church; We Should All Be Wearing Crash Helmets. Ushers Should Issue Life Preservers And Signal Flares; They Should Lash Us To Our Pews. For The Sleeping God May Wake Someday And Take Offense, Or The Waking God May Draw Us Out To Where We Can Never Return.