Existence Is A Series Of Footnotes To

My Carmen," I Said (i Used To Call Her That Sometimes) "we Shall Leave This Raw Sore Town As Soon As You Get Out Of Bed." "... Because, Really," I Continued, "there Is No Point In Staying Here." "there Is No Point In Staying Anywhere," Said Lolita.

I Don't Think In Any Language. I Think In Images.

Lolita, Light Of My Life, Fire Of My Loins. My Sin, My Soul.

I Have The European Urge To Use My Feet When A Drive Can Be Dispensed With.

It Is A Short Walk From The Hallelujah To The Hoot.