Before Going Back To Sleep I Imagined

Come Sleep With Me: We Won't Make Love,love Will Make Us.

I Sometimes Longed For Someone Who, Like Me, Had Not Adjusted Perfectly With His Age, And Such A Person Was Hard To Find; But I Soon Discovered Cats, In Which I Could Imagine A Condition Like Mine, And Books, Where I Found It Quite Often.

We No Longer Believe Because It Is Absurd: It Is Absurd Because We Must Believe.

Everything Can Be Killed Except Nostalgia For The Kingdom, We Carry It In The Color Of Our Eyes, In Every Love Affair, In Everything That Deeply Torments And Unties And Tricks.

After The Age Of 50 We Begin To Die Little By Little In The Deaths Of Others.