I Haven't Changed Much, Over The Years.

A Broken Heart Is Never A Tragedy. Only Untimely Death Is A Tragedy.

Your Thin White Face, Chérie; He Said, As If He Saw It For The First Time. Your Thin White Face, With Its Promise Of Debauchery Only A Connoisseur Could Detect.

Cities Have Sexes: London Is A Man, Paris A Woman, And New York A Well-adjusted Transsexual.

I Haven't Changed Much, Over The Years. I Use Less Adjectives, Now, And Have A Kinder Heart, Perhaps.

Your Green Eye Is A Reducing Chamber. If I Look Into It Long Enough, I Wil Become As Small As My Own Reflection, I Will Diminish To A Point And Vanish. I Will Be Drawn Down Into That Black Whirlpool And Be Consumed By You. I Shall Become So Small You Can Keep Me In One Of Your Osier Cages And Mock My Loss Of Liberty.