No Woman Has Ever Been

I Am The Skeptic Of Skeptics.

But What Was A Body? Dust, Dung, Urine, Itches. It Was The Light Within Which Was Important, And It Was Not Significant If That Light Endured After Death, Or If The Soul Was Blinded Eternally In The Endless Night Of The Suspired Flesh.

I Have Had Four Happy Days In My Life, And Three Of Them Turned Out To Be Illusions.

My Childhood Was Appalling.

I Have Been The Victim Of Heartless Malice.