Personally I've Never Put Much

If I Had A Staff Of Even One Person, Or Could Tolerate A Small Amphetamine Habit, Or Entertain The Possibility Of Weekly Blood Transfusions, Or Had Been Married To Vera Nabokov, Or Had A Housespouse Of Even Minimal Abilities, A Literary Life Would Be Easier To Bring About. (in My Mind I See All Your Male Readers Rolling Their Eyes. But Your Female Ones - What Is That? Are They Nodding In Agreement? Are Their Fists In The Air?)

Personally I've Never Put Much Store By Honesty- I Mean How Can You Trust A Word Whose First Letter You Don't Even Pronounce

You Emptied The Top Rack Of The Dishwasher But Not The Bottom, So The Clean Dishes Have Gotten All Mixed Up With The Dirty Ones - And Now You Want To Have Sex?

You Chose Love Like A Belief, A Faith, A Place, A Box For One's Heart To Knock Against Like A Spook In The House.

Perhaps We Had At Last Reached That Stage Of Intimacy That Destroys Intimacy.