I Don't Want To Live. I Want

I Wish We Could Spend July By The Sea, Browning Ourselves And Feeling Water-weighted Hair Flow Behind Us From A Dive. I Wish Our Gravest Concerns Were The Summer Gnats. I Wish We Were Hungry For Hot Dogs And Dopes, And It Would Be Nice To Smell The Starch Of Summer Linens And The Faint Odor Of Talc In Blistering Summer Bath Houses ... We Could Lie In Long Citoneuse Beams Of The Five O'clock Sun On The Plage At Juan-les-pins And Hear The Sound Of The Drum And Piano Being Scooped Out To Sea By The Waves.

She Felt The Essence Of Herself Pulled Finer And Smaller Like Those Streams Of Spun Glass That Pull And Stretch Till There Remains But A Glimmering Illusion. Neither Falling Nor Breaking, The Stream Spins Finer. She Felt Herself Very Small And Ecstatic. Alabama Was In Love.

Scott-there's Nothing In The World I Want But You-and Your Precious Love. All The Material Things Are Nothing. I'd Just Hate To Live In A Sordid, Colorless Existence-because You'd Soon Love Less-and Less-and I'd Do Anything-anything-to Keep Your Heart For My Own-i Don't Want To Live-i Want To Love First And Live Incidentally.

The Purpose Of Life On Earth Is That The Soul Should Grow - So Growl By Doing What Is Right.

It Is The Loose Ends With Which Men Hang Themselves.