I'd Sleep And Forget It; I Had

We Tiptoed Around Each Other Like Heartbreaking New Friends.

Will You Love Me In December As You Do In May?

For The First Time In My Life The Weather Was Not Something That Touched Me, That Caressed Me, Froze Or Sweated Me, But Became Me.

My Life Is A Vast Inconsequential Epic.

And I Realize The Unbearable Anguish Of Insanity: How Uninformed People Can Be Thinking Insane People Are "happy," O God, In Fact It Was Irwin Garden Once Warned Me Not To Think The Madhouses Are Full Of "happy Nuts." (p. 200)