I do not know what the spirit of a philosopher could more wish to be than a good dancer. For the dance is his ideal also his fine art finally also the only kind of piety he knows his 'divine service.'
My primary school teacher once poured a bottle of curdled school milk forcefully down my throat. Then I threw it up all over her suede shoes. I'd rather have drunk from the spittoon in Barney's barber shop.
