He Seems To Me To Be Headed

Don't Tell Them Too Much About Your Soul. They're Waiting For Just That.

You Can't Fight City Hall. It Keeps Changing Its Name.

In Those Days He Really Didn't Know What He Was Talking About; That Is To Say, He Was A Young Jailkid All Hung-up On The Wonderful Possibilities Of Becoming A Real Intellectual, And He Liked To Talk In The Tone And Using The Words, But In A Jumbled Way, That He Had Heard From 'real Intellectuals.

We Turned At A Dozen Paces, For Love Is A Duel, And Looked At Each Other For The Last Time.

What Is He Aching To Do? What Are We All Aching To Do? What Do We Want?” She Didn’t Know. She Yawned. She Was Sleepy. It Was Too Much. Nobody Could Tell. Nobody Would Ever Tell. It Was All Over. She Was Eighteen And Most Lovely, And Lost.