The Bomb Lives Only As It Is

There's An Old Sysan Saying That The Soup Of Life Is Salty Enough Without Adding Tears To It.

People Were Always Sorry. Sorry They Had Done What They Had Done, Sorry They Were Doing What They Were Doing, Sorry They Were Going To Do What They Were Going To Do; But They Still Did Whatever It Is. The Sorrow Never Stopped Them; It Just Made Them Feel Better. And So The Sorrow Never Stopped.

You're A Wicked Man." "thank You. It's Taken Years Of Diligent Practice.

Anyway, You Can't Leave Her Like That. You Can't Do That To The Woman. She Doesn't Deserve It; Nobody Does. You Don't Belong To Her And She Doesn't Belong To You, But You're Both Part Of Each Other; If She Got Up And Left Now And Walked Away And You Never Saw Each Other Again For The Rest Of Your Lives, And You Lived An Ordinary Waking Life For Another Fifty Years, Even So On Your Deathbed You Would Still Know She Was Part Of You.

...and I Confess That, Like A Child, I Cry. Ah, Self-pity; I Think We Are At Our Most Honest And Sincere When We Feel Sorry For Ourselves.