I Work All Day, And Get Half-drunk

I Listen To Money Singing, It's Like Looking Down From Long French Windows At A Provincial Town. The Slums, The Canal, The Churches Ornate And Mad In The Evening Sun. It Is Intensely Sad.

You Can't Put Off Being Young Until You Retire.

But O, Photography! As No Art Is, Faithful And Disappointing!

No One Can Tear Your Thread Out Of Himself. No One Can Tie You Down Or Set You Free.

Home Is So Sad. It Stays As It Was Left, / Shaped To The Comfort Of The Last To Go / As If To Win Them Back