I Think Our Material Is Our Lives.

A Woman Whose Smile Is Open And Whose Expression Is Glad Has A Kind Of Beauty No Matter What She Wears.

I Feel That The World Needs Writers. We Need To Know What's Really Going On.

Sometimes What We Call Love Is Just A Settling Of Old Scores, Or A Seeking Of Forbidden Pain, Or A Circuitous Path To The Kingdom Of Cruelty, Or She May Simply Have Confused Lack Of Capital With Heroism While Searching For Rescue Without Knowing From What.

Self-pity Is Never Useful. It Tends To Distort Like A Fun-house Mirror.

We Were Not Always 70, Or Rather Our 70 Is An Accumulation Of All The Other Ways We Were. Our 5-year-old Selves Became Our 10-year-old Selves, And So On And On; And If We Unpack Our Selves, The Full Album Appears. Every Moment Is A Part Of The Following Moment, And We Are All A Continuum.