Feed from the udder, and if the milk be Sour, feed on . . . Once I lived among ye. These spiritualists are living sepulchres. What has decayed should perish decently. Cursed are they who supplicate.
Gods are with ye yet.
O Self my God, foreign is thy name except in blasphemy, for I am thy iconoclast. I cast thy bread upon the waters, for I myself am meat enough. May I have courage to take from my own superabundance. Let me forget righteousness. Free me of mrals.