Watch That Boy. He's Going

I Thought Of All Those Heroines Of Fiction Who Looked Pretty When They Cried, And What A Contrast I Must Make With A Blotched And Swollen Face, And Red Rims To My Eyes.

If Only There Could Be An Invention That Bottled Up A Memory, Like Scent. And It Never Faded, And It Never Got Stale. And Then, When One Wanted It, The Bottle Could Be Uncorked, And It Would Be Like Living The Moment All Over Again.

I Held Out My Arms To Him And He Came To Me Like A Child.

...the Routine Of Life Goes On, Whatever Happens, We Do The Same Things, Go Through The Little Performance Of Eating, Sleeping, Washing. No Crisis Can Break Through The Crust Of Habit.

Because I Want To; Because I Must; Because Now And Forever More This Is Where I Belong To Be.