I Want To Give A Really Bad

My God,' He Gasped, 'you're Fun To Kiss.

Poetry Is Either Something That Lives Like Fire Inside You -- Like Music To The Musician Or Marxism To The Communist -- Or Else It Is Nothing, An Empty, Formalized Bore Around Which Pedants Can Endlessly Drone Their Notes And Explanations.

The Rich Are Different From Us.

I Wanted No More Riotous Excursions With Privileged Glimpses Into The Human Heart.

We Both Fitted. If Our Corners Were Not Rubbed Off They Were At Least Pulled In. But Deep In Us Both Was Something That Made Us Require More For Happiness. I Didn't Know What I Wanted