Why Is There Happiness And Comfort And

Love Is Bitter And All There Is, And That The Rest Is For The Emotional Beggars Of The Earth.

It Seemed To Alabama That, Reaching Her Goal, She Would Drive The Devils That Had Driven Her - That, In Proving Herself, She Would Achieve That Peace Which She Imagined Went Only In Surety Of One’s Self - That She Would Be Able, Through The Medium Of The Dance, To Command Her Emotions, To Summon Love Or Pity Or Happiness At Will, Having Provided A Channel Through Which They Might Flow. She Drove Herself Mercilessly, And The Summer Dragged On.

I Can't Read Or Sleep. Without Hope Or Youth Or Money I Sit Constantly Wishing I Were Dead.

We Grew Up Founding Our Dreams On The Infinite Promise Of American Advertising.

Don't You Think I Was Made For You? I Feel Like You Had Me Ordered - And I Was Delivered To You - To Be Worn. I Want You To Wear Me, Like A Watch-charm Or A Buttonhole Bouquet.