Ten Years, She's Dead, And I Still

Memoir Is Not An Act Of History But An Act Of Memory, Which Is Innately Corrupt.

Having A Great Dad Probably Permitted Me To Pal Around With Guys In A Way That Some Women Don't.

I Get So Lonely Sometimes, I Could Put A Box On My Head And Mail Myself To A Stranger.

Love Is The Only Passion Which Includes In Its Dreams The Happiness Of Someone Else.

There's A Space At The Bottom Of An Exhale, A Little Hitch Between Taking In And Letting Out That's A Perfect Zero You Can Go Into. There's A Rest Point Between The Heart Muscle's Close And Open - An Instant Of Keenest Living When You're Momentarily Dead. You Can Rest There.