I Want To Know Everything About You,

I Am Not Quite Myself, I Think.but Who Here Is Quite Himself? And Yet There Is A Way In Which We Are All More Ourselves Than Ever, I Suppose.

And I See That Not Touching For So Long Was A Drive To The Beach With The Windows Rolled Up So The Waves Feel That Much Colder.

When My Mother Died, My Father's Early Widowhood Gave Him Social Cachet He Would Not Have Had If They Had Divorced. He Was A Bigger Catch For The Sorrow Attached.

Consolation Is A Beautiful Word. Everyone Skins His Knee-that Doesnt Make Yours Hurt Anyless.

Look At Me. My Concerns-are They Spiritual, Do You Think, Or Carnal? Come On. We've Read Our Shakespeare.