There Is No Delight The

Funny That. We Live In Islands Of Hours And We Never Seem To Have Time Enough For Anything.

One Part Of Love Is Innocence One Part Of Love Is Guilt One Part The Milk That In A Sense Is Soured As Soon As Spilt One Part Of Love Is Sentiment One Part Of Love Is Lust One Part Is The Presentiment Of Our Return To Dust

Perhaps Sunlight Had Always Been Luminous, And Doorways Signs Of Greater Passage Than That Of One Room To Another. But She’d Not Noticed It Until Now.

As For Theatre, There's Ups And Downs To Everything. Theatre Is Ephemeral. But That Is Part Of Its Charm Because You Can Always Say The Production Was Better Than It Was.

We're Both Thieves, Harvey Swick. I Take Time. You Take Lives. But In The End We're The Same: Both Thieves Of Always.