The Truth Is How You Say It,

She Was Nervous About The Future; It Made Her Indelicate. She Was One Of The Most Unimportantly Wicked Women Of Her Time --because She Could Not Let Her Time Alone, And Yet Could Never Be A Part Of It. She Wanted To Be The Reason For Everything And So Was The Cause Of Nothing. She Had The Fluency Of Tongue And Action Meted Out By Divine Providence To Those Who Cannot Think For Themselves. She Was The Master Of The Over-sweet Phrase, The Over-tight Embrace.

Dreams Have Only The Pigmentation Of Fact.

The Heart Of The Jealous Knows The Best And Most Satisfying Love, That Of The Other's Bed, Where The Rival Perfects The Lover's Imperfections.

No One Will Be Much Or Little Except In Someone Else's Mind, So Be Careful Of The Minds You Get Into.

There Is Always More Surface To A Shattered Object Than A Whole.