Men Have Feelings Too, You Know. You

Prepared To Fly, Even If She Has To Loose Her Legs To Do It

When The Music Is Over, She Keeps Her Head Down Till She Finds Her Seat Again, And I Wonder How Many Times Each Day She Dies A Little.

Just Once I’d Like To Meet A Fella Who Isn’t A Phony. Somebody Who Doesn’t Wanna Buy Me A Fur So He Can Show Me Off To His Boys.

She Was Too Much—for Zenith, Ohio. She’d Tried At Times To Make Herself Smaller, To Fit Neatly Into The Ordered Lines Of Expectation. But Somehow, She Always Managed To Say Or Do Something Outrageous—she’d Accept A Dare To Climb A Flagpole, Or Make A Slightly Risqué Joke, Or Go Riding In Cars With Boys—and Suddenly She Was “that Awful O’neill Girl” All Over Again.

Sitting In My Favorite Coffeehouse With A New Notebook And A Hot Cup Of Java Is My Idea Of Heaven.