If Helen Of Troy Could Have Been

A Man's Sorrow Runs Uphill; True It Is Difficult For Him To Bear, But It Is Also Difficult For Him To Keep.

She Was Nervous About The Future; It Made Her Indelicate. She Was One Of The Most Unimportantly Wicked Women Of Her Time --because She Could Not Let Her Time Alone, And Yet Could Never Be A Part Of It. She Wanted To Be The Reason For Everything And So Was The Cause Of Nothing. She Had The Fluency Of Tongue And Action Meted Out By Divine Providence To Those Who Cannot Think For Themselves. She Was The Master Of The Over-sweet Phrase, The Over-tight Embrace.

Destiny And History Are Untidy.

I Couldn't Ever Boil Potatoes Over The Heat Of Your Affection. Your Love Would Never Bridge A Gap; It Wouldn't Even Fill Up The Hole That The Mice Came Through.

Love Becomes The Deposit Of The Heart, Analogous In All Degrees To The 'findings' In A Tomb. As In One Will Be Charted The Taken Place Of The Body, The Raiment, The Utensils Necessary To Its Other Life, So In The Heart Of The Lover Will Be Traced, As An Indelible Shadow, That Which He Loves.