I Will Tell You What Jeanne Was

And, Conversely, She Went On To Herself, Sneering At The Grand Duke's Palace, Poverty Is Wasted On The Poor, Who Never Know How To Make The Best Of Things, Are Only The Rich Without Money, Are Just As Useless At Looking After Themselves, Can't Handle Their Cash Just Like The Rich Can't, Always Squandering It On Bright, Pretty, Useless Things In Just The Same Way.

One Beast And Only One Howls In The Woods By Night.

I Had The Brief Notion That His Heart, Pressed Flat As A Flower, Crimson And Thin As Tissue Paper, Lay In This File. It Was A Very Thin One.

A Book Is Simply The Container Of An Idea-like A Bottle; What Is Inside The Book Is What Matters.

Cats Of All Kinds Weave In And Out Of The Text; Burroughs Has Clearly Taken To Them In A Big Way In His Old Age And Seems Torn Between A Fear They Will Betray Him Into Sentimentality And A Resigned Acceptance That A Man Can't Be Ironic All The Time.