The Faults Of Husbands Are

It Takes Time For The Absent To Assume Their True Shape In Our Thoughts.

At The Top Of The Iron Staircase Leading To The Stage, The Good, Dry, Dusty Warmth Wraps Me Round Like A Comfortable Dirty Cloak.

- And How Time Flies! What, Has It Already Been Twenty Years, Already Forty Years That We Are Together? Why, How Terrible! We Haven't Yet Said All We Wanted To Say To Each Other... May We Have A Little Respite, Or Else May We Be Allowed To Begin All Over Again!

You Do Not Notice Changes In What Is Always Before You.

No One Asked You To Be Happy. Get To Work.