Love, Love, Love - All The Wretched

Gillard Is As Likeable As Rudd Is Charmless. She Is Self-deprecating; He Is Ludicrously Vainglorious. She Is A Mistress Of Understatement; He Is A Ranter.

If Female Liberation Is To Happen, If The Reservoir Of Real Female Love Is To Be Tapped, This Sterile Self-deception Must Be Counteracted. The Only Literary Form Which Could Outsell Romantic Trash On The Female Market Is Hard-core Pornography.

Loneliness Is Never More Cruel Than When It Is Felt In Close Propinquity With Someone Who Has Ceased To Communicate.

Australia Is A Huge Rest Home, Where No Unwelcome News Is Ever Wafted On To The Pages Of The Worst Newspapers In The World.

Love, Love, Love – All The Wretched Cant Of It, Masking Egotism, Lust, Masochism, Fantasy Under A Mythology Of Sentimental Postures, A Welter Of Self-induced Miseries And Joys, Blinding And Masking The Essential Personalities In The Frozen Gestures Of Courtship, In The Kissing And The Dating And The Desire, The Compliments And The Quarrels Which Vivify Its Barrenness.