We Grew Up Founding Our

Memories Should Be Sharp When One Has Nothing Else To Live For

I Play The Radio And Moon About...and Dream Of Utopias Where Its Always July The 24th 1935, In The Middle Of Summer Forever.

Women Sometimes Seem To Share A Quiet, Unalterable Dogma Of Persecution That Endows Even The Most Sophisticated Of Them With The Inarticulate Poignancy Of The Peasant.

We Get Something To Do And As Soon As We've Got It, It Gets Us.

Oh, The Secret Life Of Man And Woman--dreaming How Much Better We Would Be Than We Are If We Were Somebody Else Or Even Ourselves, And Feeling That Our Estate Has Been Unexploited To Its Fullest.