Love's Never A Fair Trade.

Roughing It Builds A Boy's Character, But Only Certain Kinds Of Roughing It.

She Imagines Him Imagining Her. This Is Her Salvation. In Spirit She Walks The City, Traces Its Labyrinths, Its Dingy Mazes: Each Assignation, Each Rendezvous, Each Door And Stair And Bed. What He Said, What She Said, What They Did, What They Did Then. Even The Times They Argued, Fought, Parted, Agonized, Rejoined. How They’d Loved To Cut Themselves On Each Other, Taste Their Own Blood. We Were Ruinous Together, She Thinks. But How Else Can We Live, These Days, Except In The Midst Of Ruin?

Is Anything Wrong, Dear? The Old Joke Went. No, Why? You Moved. Just Don't Move.

I Was Warped Early By Ray Bradbury And Edgar Allan Poe. I Was Very Fond Of Franz Kafka.

You Can Only Be Jealous Of Someone Who Has Something You Think You Ought To Have Yourself.