We Must Be Moving, Working, Making Dreams

Maybe Forgetfulness, Like A Kind Snow, Should Numb And Cover Them. But They Were A Part Of Me. They Were My Landscape.

What I Hate Is The Thought Of Being Under A Man's Thumb," I Had Told Doctor Nolan. "a Man Doesn't Have A Worry In The World, While I've Got A Baby Hanging Over My Head Like A Big Stick, To Keep Me In Line.

You Are The One. Solid The Spaces Lean On, Envious. You Are The Baby In The Barn.

In Spite Of Everything, I Still Have My Good Old Sense Of Humor.

The Silence Depressed Me. It Wasn't The Silence Of Silence. It Was My Own Silence.