Should You Ask Me If

The Unnatural And The Strange Have A Perfume Of Their Own

Liberty Is The Possibility Of Isolation.

The Chill Of What I Won't Feel Gnaws At My Present Heart.

We Never Love Anyone. What We Love Is The Idea We Have Of Someone. It's Our Own Concept—our Own Selves—that We Love.

The Startling Reality Of Things Is My Discovery Every Single Day.