I Must Honor Those Who Fight Of

The Prefect Evening...lying Down On The Couch Beside The Bookcase And Reading Himself Sleepy...jim Lying Opposite Him At The Other End Of The Couch, Also Reading; The Two Of Them Absorbed In Their Books Yet So Completely Aware Of Each Other's Presence.

In Order To Get The Worst Possible First Impression Of Los Angeles One Should Arrive There By Bus, Preferably In Summer And On A Saturday Night.

As They Embrace, She Kisses Him Full On The Mouth. And Suddenly Sticks Her Tongue Right In. She Has Done This Before, Often. It’s One Of Those Drunken Long Shots Which Just Might, At Least Theoretically, Once In Ten Thousand Tries, Throw A Relationship Right Out Of Its Orbit And Send It Whizzing Off On Another. Do Women Ever Stop Trying? No. But, Because They Never Stop, They Learn To Be Good Losers.

But Now Isn’t Simply Now. Now Is Also A Cold Reminder: One Whole Day Later Than Yesterday, One Year Later Than Last Year. Every Now Is Labeled With Its Date, Rendering All Past Nows Obsolete, Until — Later Of Sooner — Perhaps — No, Not Perhaps — Quite Certainly: It Will Come.

For Other People, I Can't Speak - But, Personally, I Haven't Gotten Wise On Anything. Certainly, I've Been Through This And That; And When It Happens Again, I Say To Myself, Here It Is Again. But That Doesn't Seem To Help Me. In My Opinion, I, Personally, Have Gotten Steadily Sillier And Sillier - And That's A Fact.