I'm Insatiably Curious.

Life Is What You Celebrate. All Of It. Even Its End.

To Be Closed From Everything, And Yet To Feel, To Think...this Is The Truth Of Hell, Stripped Of Its Gaudy Medievalisms. This Loss Of Contact.

I Could Do With A Bit More Excess. From Now On I'm Going To Be Immoderate--and Volatile--i Shall Enjoy Loud Music And Lurid Poetry. I Shall Be Rampant.

Guilleaume Left La Praline With A Small Bag Of Florentines In His Pocket; Before He Had Turned The Corner Of Avenue Des Francs Bourgeois I Saw Him Stoop To Offer One To The Dog. A Pat, A Bark, A Wagging Of The Short Stubby Tail. As I Said, Some People Never Have To Think About Giving.

I Am Not At All A Chocoholic. I Would Rather Eat Anchovy Toast.