What Could Be Lonelier Than

I Wandered Over Across The Hall Where They Were Showing A Short Movie About Vasectomies. Much Later I Told Her That I'd Actually Gotten A Vasectomy A Long Time Ago, And Somebody Else Must Have Gotten Her Pregnant. I Also Told Her Once That I Had Inoperable Cancer And Would Soon Be Passed Away And Gone, Eternally. But Nothing I Could Think Up, No Matter How Dramatic Or Horrible, Ever Made Her Repent Or Love Me The Way She Had At First, Before She Really Knew Me.

He Got Right Down In The Dark Between Heartbeats, And Rested There. And Then He Saw That Another One Wasn't Going To Come. That's It. That's The Last. He Looked At The Dark. I Would Like To Take This Opportunity, He Said, To Pray For Another Human Being.

Death Is The Mother Of Beauty.

The Movie's Not Over Till Everybody's Dead.

They Needed To Share One Secret After Another With A Beautiful Woman, To Peel Away Layer After Layer, Mask After Mask, And Still Find Themselves Worshiped.