Greenwich Village Always Had Its Share Of

Do We Loathe Our Masters Behind A Facade Of Love - Or Do We Love Them Behind A Facade Of Loathing?

In India, It's The Rich Who Have Problems With Obesity. And The Poor Are Darker-skinned Because They Work Outside And Often Work Without Their Tops On So You Can See Their Ribs.

But Isn't It Likely That Everyone In This World...has Killed Someone Or Other On Their Way To The Top?...all I Wanted Was A Chance To Be A Man--and For That, One Murder Is Enough.

Strange Thoughts Brew In Your Heart When You Spend Too Much Time With Old Books

A Rich Man's Body Is Like A Premium Cotton Pillow, White And Soft And Blank. ''ours'' Is Different. My Father's Spine Was A Knotted Rope, The Kind That Women Use In Villages To Pull Water From Wells; The Clavicle Curved Around His Neck In High Relief, Like A Dog's Collar; Cuts And Nicks And Scars, Like Little Whip Marks In His Flesh, Ran Down His Chest And Waist, Reaching Down Below His Hip Bones Into His Buttocks. The Story Of A Poor Man's Life Is Written On His Body, In A Sharp Pen.