There Is Something Indecent In

Why So Much Innuendo, Draped Like Ivy To Hide A Cesspool, When Everyone Knew The Cesspool Was There?

What World Lies Beyond That Stormy Sea I Do Not Know, But Every Ocean Has A Distant Shore, And I Shall Reach It.

For Women, History Does Not Exist. Murasaki, Sappho, And Madame Lafayette Might Be Their Own Contemporaries.

Nowadays, Suicide Is Just A Way Of Disappearing. It Is Carried Out Timidly, Quietly, And Falls Flat. It Is No Longer An Action, Only A Submission.

One Stops Being A Child When One Realizes That Telling One's Trouble Does Not Make It Any Better.