When My Beloved Arrives, I Yawn. When

Nothing Goes Sour More Easily Than The Life Of Pleasure.

New York Loves Itself In An Unkind And Fanatical Way.

It Is Hard To Speak Of Sex Without Being Clinical, Brutal, Or Romantic.

The Lady: A Fluty Voice, Sensible Shoes, A Melancholy Sense Of Living By Rules Few Still Remember.

Deconstruction: Peering Suspiciously At The Text, I Wait For It To Make A Slip And Betray Itself.