New York Has An Electronic Heart.

Life Is What We Make It, Always Has Been, Always Will Be...including Our Perception. Of It

I Like Extravagance. Letters Which Give The Postman A Stiff Back To Carry, Books Which Overflow From Their Covers, Sexuality Which Bursts The Thermometers.

Three Or Four Threads May Be Agitated, Like Telegraph Wires, At The Same Time, And If I Were To Tap Them All I Would Reveal Such A Mixture Of Innocence And Duplicity, Generosity And Calculation, Fear And Courage, I Cannot Tell The Whole Truth Simply Because I Would Have To Write Four Journals At Once.

Those Who Cannot Live Fully Often Become Destroyers Of Life.

This Image Of Herself As A Not Ordinary Women, An Image Which Was Trembling Now In His Eyes, Might Suddenly Disappear. Nothing More Difficult To Live Up To Than Men's Dreams.