Every Present Anger Derives From Past Weakness.

I Don't Know How One Should Live - But I Know That One Should Live.

The Flesh Had Infinity In It. I Must Know Every Inch By Touch Yet Every Inch Renewed Its Mystery The Instant My Hand Moved On. Delightful Endless Futility.

One Develops An Instinct For Letting Silence Do The Heavy Lifting. In The Three, Four, Five Seconds That Passed Without Either Of Us Speaking, The Many Ways The Conversation Could Go Came And Went Like Time-lapse Film Of Flowers Blooming And Dying.

Yes, Eden Was Beautiful- And If I Had To Squeeze Through Corporeal Keyholes To Crash It- So Be It. (hasn’t It Bothered You, This Part Of The Story, My Being There, I Mean? What Was I Doing There? ‘presume Not The Ways Of God To Scan,’ You’ve Been Told In Umpteen Variations, ‘the Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.’ Maybe So, But What, Excuse Me, Was The Devil Doing In Eden?) I Took The Forms Of Animals. I Found I Could. (that’s Generally My Reason For Doing Something, By The Way, Because I Find I Can.)

Your Ideal Possession Candidate's A Thirteen-year-old Recently Orphaned Schizophrenic Girl Three Days Away From Her Period On Her Way To See The Shrink With Whom She's Romantically Besotted.