Oh, Darling, I've Been So Miserable.

And Bed, He Thought. Bed Is My Friend. Just Bed, He Thought. Bed Will Be A Great Thing. It Is Easy When You Are Beaten, He Thought. I Never Knew How Easy It Was. And What Beat You, The Thought.

Why, Darling, I Don't Live At All When I'm Not With You.

I've Been Wondering About Dostoyevsky. How Can A Man Write So Badly, So Unbelievably Badly, And Make You Feel So Deeply?

How Simple The Writing Of Literature Would Be If It Were Only Necessary To Write In Another Way What Has Been Well Written. It Is Because We Have Had Such Great Writers In The Past That A Writer Is Driven Far Out Past Where He Can Go, Out To Where No One Can Help Him.

I Don’t. I Don’t Want Anybody Else To Touch You. I’m Silly. I Get Furious If They Touch You.