I Have No Words For My Reality.

There Is No Art Without Eros.

We Live In An Age Of Reproduction. Most Of What Makes Up Our Personal Picture Of The World We Have Never Seen With Our Own Eyes--or Rather, We've Seen It With Our Own Eyes, But Not On The Spot: Our Knowledge Comes To Us From A Distance, We Are Televiewers, Telehearers, Teleknowers.

The Older You Get The Simpler You Want To Make It.

Perhaps There Are Only A Few Women Who Experience Without Deception The Overwhelming Intoxication Of The Senses Which They Expectfrom Their Encounters With Men, Which They Feel Bound To Expect Because Of The Fuss Made About It In Novels, Written By Men.

I Know That I'm The Happiest Of Lovers.