A Good Life Is Not Measured By

Madame, It Is An Old Word And Each One Takes It New And Wears It Out Himself. It Is A Word That Fills With Meaning As A Bladder With Air And The Meaning Goes Out Of It As Quickly. It May Be Punctured As A Bladder Is Punctured And Patched And Blown Up Again And If You Have Not Had It Does Not Exist For You. All People Talk Of It, But Those Who Have Had It Are Marked By It, And I Would Not Wish To Speak Of It Further Since Of All Things It Is The Most Ridiculous To Talk Of And Only Fools Go Through It Many Times.

To Me Heaven Would Be A Big Bull Ring With Me Holding Two Barrera Seats And A Trout Stream Outside That No One Else Was Allowed To Fish In And Two Lovely Houses In The Town; One Where I Would Have My Wife And Children And Be Monogamous And Love Them Truly And Well And The Other Where I Would Have My Nine Beautiful Mistresses On Nine Different Floors.

In The Morning There Was A Big Wind Blowing And The Waves Were Running High Up On The Beach And He Was Awake A Long Time Before He Remembered That His Heart Was Broken.

I Decided That I Would Write One Story About Each Thing That I Knew About.

Never Confuse Motions With Action.