… And We Are In Bed Together

I Am A Dolt Of A Man, Easily Made Happy Or Even Stupidly Happy Almost Without Cause And Left Alone I Am Mostly Content.

For Each Joan Of Arc There Is A Hitler Perched At The Other End Of The Teeter-totter.

If There Are Junk Yards In Hell, Love Is The Dog That Guards The Gates.

I Want To Let Her Know Though That All The Nights Sleeping Beside Her Even The Useless Arguments Were Things Ever Splendid And The Hard Words I Ever Feared To Say Can Now Be Said: I Love You.

Daddy,' My Mother Asked, 'aren’t We Going To Run Out Of Gas?' No There’s Plenty Of God-damned Gas.' Where Are We Going?' I’m Going To Get Some God-damed Oranges!