I'll Tell You A Secret. We Live

I'll Tell You A Secret. We Live In A Mad And Inspiring World.

Love's The Only Thing I've Thought Of Or Read About Since I Was Knee-high. That's What I Always Dreamed Of, Of Meeting Somebody And Falling In Love. And When That Remarkable Thing Happened, I Was Going To Recite Poetry To Her For Hours About How Her Heart's An Angel's Wing And Her Hair The Strings Of A Heavenly Harp. Instead I Got Drunk And Hollered At Her And Called Her A Harpy.

I Have Known A Number Of Don Juans Who Were Good Studs And Who Cavorted Between The Sheets Without A Psychiatrist To Guide Them. But Most Of The Busy Love-makers I Knew Were Looking For Masculinity Rather Than Practicing It. They Were Fellows Of Dubious Lust.

Three Years Ago, The White Hope Of The Theatre. Today, A Mug. That's New York For You. Puts You On A Christmas Tree, And Then - The Alley.

I Know That A Man Who Shows Me His Wealth Is Like The Beggar Who Shows Me His Poverty; They Are Both Looking For Alms From Me, The Rich Man For The Alms Of My Envy, The Poor Man For The Alms Of My Guilt.