As Far As I Know, You Can

The Law Is Simply Expediency Wearing A Long White Dress.

When I Was Young, We Thought That Oscar Wilde Was A Great Nobleman Who Had Thrown His Life Away For Love. Nothing Could Be Less True. He Slept With East Enders Who Were Procured For Him By Lord Alfred Douglas. He Knew Them Only 'in Braille' - The Curtains Were Never Drawn Back In The Rooms In Oxford Where He Met Those Boys. It Was The Most Sordid Life You Can Imagine. And He Was Bleating About Love And Dragging The Fair Name Of Mr. Plato Into The Trial - After A Life Like That?

I Have Known Female Whores Who Spoke Very Bitterly Of Their Calling. "if They Don't Like My Face, They Can Put A Cushion Over It. I Know It's Not That They're Interested In." But To The Boys This Profession Never Seemed Shameful. It Was Their Daytime Occupations For Which They Felt The Need To Apologize. In Some Instances, These Were Lower Class Or Humdrum Or, Worst Of All, Unfeminine. At Least Whoring Was Never That.

If You Describe Things As Better Than They Are, You Are Considered To Be A Romantic; If You Describe Things As Worse Than They Are, You Will Be Called A Realist; And If You Describe Things Exactly As They Are, You Will Be Thought Of As A Satirist.

Sometimes I Wore A Fringe So Deep It Obscured The Way Ahead. This Hardly Mattered. There Were Always Others To Look Where I Was Going.