The Perishable Nature Of Love Is What

He Had The Feeling That There Was Something Physically Behind His Eyes, Blocking The Light.

Emotions, In My Experience Aren't Covered By Single Words. I Don't Believe In "sadness," "joy," Or "regret." I'd Like To Have At My Disposal Complicated Hybrid Emotions, Germanic Traincar Constructions Like, Say, "the Happiness That Attends Disaster." Or: "the Disappointment Of Sleeping With One's Fantasy." ... I'd Like To Have A Word For "the Sadness Inspired By Failing Restaurants" As Well As For "the Excitement Of Getting A Room With A Minibar." I've Never Had The Right Words To Describe My Life.

Every Letter Was A Love Letter.

The Zipper Opened All The Way Down Our Spines.

Maybe The Best Proof That The Language Is Patriarchal Is That It Oversimplifies Feeling.