Art's Cruel. You Can Get Away With

That's The Trouble With Provincial Life. Everyone Knows Everyone And There Is No Mystery. No Romance.

The Power Of Women! I've Never Felt So Full Of Mysterious Power. Men Are A Joke. We're So Weak Physically, So Helpless With Things. Still, Even Today. But We're Stronger Than They Are. We Can Stand Their Cruelty. They Can't Stand Ours.

There Are Some Men Who Are Consoled By The Idea That There Are Women Less Attractive Than Their Wives; And Others Who Are Haunted By The Knowledge That There Are More Attractive.

The Absurdly Neurotic Role You And The Rest Of Your Kind Have Always Attributed To Me Erato, The Goddess Muse Of Erotic Poetry Bears No Relation At All To Reality. As A Matter Of Fact, I Was Trained As A Clinical Psychologist. Who Simply Happens To Have Specialized In The Mental Illness That You, In Your Ignorance, Call Literature.

Whatever Sympathy I Feel Towards Religions, Whatever Admiration For Some Of Their Adherents, Whatever Historical Or Biological Necessity I See In Them, Whatever Metaphorical Truth, I Cannot Accept Them As Credible Explanations Of Reality; And They Are Incredible To Me In Proportion To The Degree That They Require My Belief In Positive Human Attributes And Intervenient Powers In Their Divinities.