Time Is The Substance Of Which We

Democracy Is An Abuse Of Statistics.

The Minotaur More Than Justifies The Existence Of The Labyrinth.

As The End Approaches, There Are No Longer Any Images From Memory - There Are Only Words.

Perhaps The Apparent Favor Of The Universe Is No More Than The Crocodile Grin Of A Doberman Breathing Hard And About To Be Hungry?

A Book Is Not An Isolated Being: It Is A Relationship, An Axis Of Innumerable Relationships