Political Correctness Is A Minefield

I've Always Been Melancholic. At A Party, Everyone Would Be Looking At The Glittering Chandeliers And I'd Be Looking At The Waitress's Cracked Shoes.

I'd Rather Dig A Ditch Than Go To A Dinner Party With People I Don't Know.

People Get Sick And Sometimes They Get Better And Sometimes They Don't. And It Doesn't Matter If The Sickness Is Cancer Or If It's Depression. Sometimes The Drugs Work And Sometimes They Don't. Sometimes The Drugs Work For A While And Then They Stop. Sometimes The Alternative Stuff Works And Sometimes It Doesn't. And Sometimes You Wonder If No Outside Interference Makes Any Difference At All; If An Illness Is Like A Storm, If It Simply Has To Run Its Course And, At The End Of It, Depending On How Robust You Are, You Will Be Alive. Or You Will Be Dead.

You Know What It's Like. Sometimes, You Meet A Wonderful Person, But It's Only For A Brief Instant. Maybe On Vacation Or On A Train Or Maybe Even In A Bus Line. And They Touch Your Life For A Moment, But In A Special Way. And Instead Of Mourning Because They Can't Be With You For Longer, Or Because You Don't Get The Chance To Know Them Better, Isn't It Better To Be Glad That You Met Them At All?

I Don't Like This Idea Of Division: That If You're A Clever Woman Then You've Got To Be A Particular Way. Because Men Don't. Men Please Themselves.