Love Is Bitter And All

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.

Women Sometimes Seem To Share A Quiet, Unalterable Dogma Of Persecution That Endows Even The Most Sophisticated Of Them With The Inarticulate Poignancy Of The Peasant.

Emptying The Ashtrays Was Very Expressive Of Myself. I Just Lump Everything In A Great Heap Which I Have Labeled ‘the Past,’ And Having Thus Emptied This Deep Reservoir That Was Once Myself, I Am Ready To Continue.

Nothing Could Have Survived Our Life.

Women, Despite The Fact That Nine Out Of Ten Of Them Go Through Life With A Death-bed Air Either Of Snatching-the-last-moment Or With Martyr-resignation, Do Not Die Tomorrow--or The Next Day. They Have To Live On To Any One Of Many Bitter Ends.