It Always Seemed To Me

That Is Your Trick, Your Bit Of Filthy Magic: Invisibility, And The Anaesthetic Power To Deaden My Attention In Your Direction.

Ah, Then, Upon My Bedroom I Do Draw The Blind To Hide The Garden, Where The Moon Enjoys The Open Blossoms As They Straw Their Beauty For His Taking, Boon For Boon. And I Do Lift My Aching Arms To You, And I Do Lift My Anguished, Avid Breast, And I Do Weep For Very Pain Of You, And Fling Myself At The Doors Of Sleep, For Rest.

She Had Borne So Long The Cruelty Of Belonging To Him And Not Being Claimed By Him.

There Is No Pornography Without A Secrecy.

I Like To Write When I Feel Spiteful; It's Like Having A Good Sneeze.