Since then 'tis centuries$$$ and yet each<br/>Feels shorter than the day<br/>I first surmised the horses' heads<br/>Were toward eternity.
The smitten rock that gushes$$$ The trampled steel that springs; A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings!
Every junkie$$$ he thought$$$ is a recording.
On some other world$$$ possibly it is different. Better. There are clear good and evil alternatives. Not these obscure admixtures$$$ these blends$$$ with no proper tool by which to untangle the components.
I'm tired and I want to rest; I want to get out of this and go lie down somewhere$$$ off where it's dark and no one speaks. Forever.
The problem with introspection is that it has no end.
This is a mournful discovery: 1)Those who agree with you are insane. 2)Those who do not agree with you are in power.
Tender is the night. . . But here there is no light. . .
The bird is gone$$$ and in what meadow does it now sing?
A society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated.