Hope, And Hopelessness, Persist Despite The Facts.

Only Death Goes Deeper Than Sex.

I Am Easy-going Right Up To The Borders Of My Self-interest.

I Dream Of Vague Shapes That Hint Of My Heart's Desire.

I Really Like Life, Don't You? There's Nothing Else Quite Like It.

It Is Hard To Speak Of Sex Without Being Clinical, Brutal, Or Romantic.