I Could Bear The Memory, But I

Writing Poetry And Reading Books Causes Brain Damage.

Every Woman I Had Ever Met Who Walked Through The World Appraised And Classified By An Extraordinary Physicality Had Also Received The Keys To An Unbearable Solitude. It Was The Coefficient Of Their Beauty, The Price They Had To Pay.

I've Always Believed That Dreams Were Both The Love Letters And The Hate Mail Of The Subconscious.

There Are No Verdicts To Childhood, Only Consequences, And The Bright Freight Of Memory.

When Mom And Dad Went To War The Only Prisoners They Took Were The Children