I’ll Never Speak To God Again.

Cheers For Spring; For Life; For A Growing Soul.

I Am Made, Crudely, For Success.

Can A Selfish Egocentric Jealous And Unimaginative Female Write A Damn Thing Worthwhile?

The Slime Of All My Yesterdays Rots In The Hollow Of My Skull.

Don't Talk To Me About The World Needing Cheerful Stuff! What The Person Out Of Belsen Physical Or Psychological Wants Is Nobody Saying The Birdies Still Go Tweet-tweet, But The Full Knowledge That Somebody Else Has Been There And Knows The Worst, Just What It Is Like.