Other People's Ideas Of Us

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.

Scott-there's Nothing In The World I Want But You-and Your Precious Love. All The Material Things Are Nothing. I'd Just Hate To Live In A Sordid, Colorless Existence-because You'd Soon Love Less-and Less-and I'd Do Anything-anything-to Keep Your Heart For My Own-i Don't Want To Live-i Want To Love First And Live Incidentally.

Death Is The Only Real Elegance.

Why Do We Spend Years Using Up Our Bodies To Nurture Our Minds With Experience And Find Our Minds Turning Then To Our Exhausted Bodies For Solace?

I Believed I Was A Salamander, And It Seems I Am Nothing But An Impediment.