Gold Never Comes To The Dreamers -

Idealism Is The Death Of The Body And The Imagination. All But Freedom, Utter Freedom, Is Death

We Are Like Sculptors, Constantly Carving Out Of Others The Image We Long For, Need, Love Or Desire, Often Against Reality, Against Their Benefit, And Always, In The End, A Disappointment, Because It Does Not Fit Them.

Paris-new York, The Two High Tension Magnetic Poles Between Life, Life Of The Senses, Of The Spirit In Paris, And Life In Action In New York.

Nothing Endures Unless It Has First Been Transposed Into A Myth, And The Great Advantage Of Myths Is That They Are Ladies With Portable Roots.

Our Love Of Each Other Was Like Two Long Shadows Kissing Without Hope Of Reality.