Our Bones Ache Only While The Flesh

The Priceless Galaxy Of Misinformation Called The Mind.

I Have Been Loved,' She Said, 'by Something Strange, And It Has Forgotten Me.

I Am Not A Critic; To Me Criticism Is So Often Nothing More Than The Eye Garrulously Denouncing The Shape Of The Peephole That Gives Access To Hidden Treasure.

Of Course I Think Of The Past And Of Paris, What Else Is There To Remember?

Our Bones Ache Only While The Flesh Is On Them.