A Broken Heart Is Never

The Wolf Is Carnivore Incarnate And He's As Cunning As He Is Ferocious; Once He's Had A Taste Of Flesh Then Nothing Else Will Do.

They Were Connoisseurs Of Boredom. They Savoured The Various Bouquets Of The Subtly Differentiated Boredoms Which Rose From The Long, Wasted Hours At The Dead End Of Night.

Reciprocity Of Sensation Is Not Possible Because To Share Is To Be Robbed.

Cats Of All Kinds Weave In And Out Of The Text; Burroughs Has Clearly Taken To Them In A Big Way In His Old Age And Seems Torn Between A Fear They Will Betray Him Into Sentimentality And A Resigned Acceptance That A Man Can't Be Ironic All The Time.

For Hours, For Days, For Years, She Had Wandered Endlessly Within Herself But Never Met Anybody, Nobody.