The Seattle Star

Those who have seen the needle’s eye now tread like a husk from which all that was — now has fled. And the masks that the monsters wear to feed upon their prey…Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved, the Sunday Comics forever.

I like people there, the ones who can’t stand — they’re the ones who can’t stand. I see smoke signals coming from them. They say, “we’re all out of Comics, sir.” Stand on your own head, for a change; give me some skin to call…