Her Voice Is Full Of

It Was As If For The Remainder Of His Life He Was Condemned To Carry With Him The Egos Of Certain People, Early Met And Early Loved, And To Be Only As Complete As They Were Complete Themselves. There Was Some Element Of Loneliness Involved--so Easy To Be Loved--so Hard To Love.

Angry, And Half In Love With Her, And Tremendously Sorry, I Turned Away.

If You're In Love It Ought To Make You Happy. You Ought To Laugh.

Once One Is Caught Up Into The Material World Not One Person In Ten Thousand Finds The Time To Form Literary Taste, To Examine The Validity Of Philosophic Concepts For Himself, Or To Form What, For Lack Of A Better Phrase, I Might Call The Wise And Tragic Sense Of Life.

And Will I Like Being Called A Jazz-baby? You Will Love It.