I Find That Those Men

Love, Love, Love – All The Wretched Cant Of It, Masking Egotism, Lust, Masochism, Fantasy Under A Mythology Of Sentimental Postures, A Welter Of Self-induced Miseries And Joys, Blinding And Masking The Essential Personalities In The Frozen Gestures Of Courtship, In The Kissing And The Dating And The Desire, The Compliments And The Quarrels Which Vivify Its Barrenness.

Every Time A Woman Makes Herself Laugh At Her Husband's Often-told Jokes She Betrays Him. The Man Who Looks At His Woman And Says 'what Would I Do Without You?' Is Already Destroyed.

My Knees Have Always Been Ugly.

The Consequences Of Militancy Do Not Disappear When The Need For Militancy Is Over.

We Can't Change The Moon But We Can Live In Harmony With Its Tides, And We Can Make Some Ripples Of Our Own.