My Prodigious Sin Was, And Still Is,

Where Words Leave Off, Gesture Begins. Don't We Speak Of A Person Being Speechless With Rage, Dancing With Impatience, Setting His Teeth? The Final Motions Of The Soul Are Speechless, Animal, Grotesque, Or Of An Incomparable Beauty.

Nothing Is Permanent In This Wicked World - Not Even Our Troubles.

We All Want To Help One Another. Human Beings Are Like That. We Want To Live By Each Other's Happiness - Not By Each Other's Misery.

That's What All We Are: Amateurs. We Don't Live Long Enough To Be Anything Else.

Brunettes Are Troublemakers. They're Worse Than The Jews.