And I, Love, Am A Pathological Liar.

There Is A Certain Unique And Strange Delight About Walking Down An Empty Street Alone.

I May Never Be Happy, But Tonight I Am Content.

But Everybody Has Exactly The Same Smiling Frightened Face, With The Look That Says: "i'm Important. If You Only Get To Know Me, You Will See How Important I Am. Look Into My Eyes. Kiss Me, And You Will See How Important I Am.

If Only I Knew What I Wanted I Could Try To See About Getting It.

Ironically, Henry James' Biography Comforts Me & I Long To Make Known To Him His Posthumous Reputation He Wrote, In Pain, Gave All His Life (which Is More Than I Could Think Of Doing I Have Ted, Will Have Children But Few Friends) & The Critics Insulted & Mocked Him, Readers Didn't Read Him.