Not Being Perfect Hurts.

Can A Selfish Egocentric Jealous And Unimaginative Female Write A Damn Thing Worthwhile?

This Is The Light Of The Mind, Cold And Planetary. The Trees Of The Mind Are Black. The Light Is Blue.

Opinions Are Like Orgasms...mine Matters Most And I Really Don't Care If You Have One.

What Did My Fingers Do Before They Held Him? What Did My Heart Do, With Its Love?

How Can You Be So Many Women To So Many Strange People, Oh You Strange Girl?