A Man Must Have Limits

She's Very Pretty But She's Honey From The Icebox, If You Know What I Mean. Cold Sweets Won't Spread.

Because I Have Become Such A Solitary, And Not In The Aristotelian Sense: Not A Beast, Not A God. Rather, A Loner Troubled By Longings, Incapable Of Finding A Suitable Language And Despairing At The Impossibility Of Composing Messages In A Playable Key--as If I No Longer Understood The Codes Used By The Estimable People Who Wanted To Hear From Me And Would Have So Much To Reply If Only The Impediments Were Taken Away.

I Love Solitude, But I Prize It Most When Plenty Of Company Is Available.

I Don't Know Exactly How It's Done. I Let It Alone A Good Deal.

People Can Lose Their Lives In Libraries. They Ought To Be Warned.