I've Forgotten The Words With Which To

In Homosexual Love The Passion Is Homosexuality Itself. What A Homosexual Loves, As If It Were His Lover, His Country, His Art, His Land, Is Homosexuality.

Madness Is Like Intelligence, You Know. You Can't Explain It. Just Like Intelligence. It Comes On You, It Fills You, And Then You Understand It. But When It Goes Away You Can't Understand It At All Any Longer.

He Says He’s Lonely, Horribly Lonely Because Of This Love He Feels For Her. She Says She’s Lonely Too. She Doesn’t Say Why.

No Other Human Being, No Woman, No Poem Or Music, Book Or Painting Can Replace Alcohol In Its Power To Give Man The Illusion Of Real Creation.

You Are What You Are And That Fascinates Me.