Why Should I Tolerate A Perfect Stranger

It Is A Singular Reaction, This Sitting Still And Writing, Writing, Writing, Or Ruminating At Length, Which Is Much The Same, Really.

I Loved You. I Was A Pentapod Monster, But I Loved You. I Was Despicable And Brutal, And Turpid, And Everything, Mais Je T’aimais, Je T’aimais!

I Am Sufficiently Proud Of My Knowing Something To Be Modest About My Not Knowing All.

I Knew I Had Fallen In Love With Lolita Forever; But I Also Knew She Would Not Be Forever Lolita.

If A Violin String Could Ache, I Would Be That String.