It Is The Loose Ends

I Wish We Could Spend July By The Sea, Browning Ourselves And Feeling Water-weighted Hair Flow Behind Us From A Dive. I Wish Our Gravest Concerns Were The Summer Gnats. I Wish We Were Hungry For Hot Dogs And Dopes, And It Would Be Nice To Smell The Starch Of Summer Linens And The Faint Odor Of Talc In Blistering Summer Bath Houses ... We Could Lie In Long Citoneuse Beams Of The Five O'clock Sun On The Plage At Juan-les-pins And Hear The Sound Of The Drum And Piano Being Scooped Out To Sea By The Waves.

Looking For Love Is Like Asking For A New Point Of Departure ... Another Chance In Life.

They Hadn't Much Faith In Travel, Nor A Great Belief In A Change Of Scene As A Panacea For Spiritual Ills; They Were Simply Glad To Be Going.

People Are Like Almanacs, Bonnie - You Never Can Find The Information You're Looking For, But The Casual Reading Is Well Worth The Trouble.

Life Has Puffed And Blown Itself Into A Summer Day, And Clouds And Spring Billow Over The Heavens As If Calendars Were A Listing Of Mathematical Errors.