I Warn You, I Refuse To Be

Sentimentality Is A Form Of Fatigue.

We Went Down Into The Silent Garden. Dawn Is The Time When Nothing Breathes, The Hour Of Silence. Everything Is Transfixed, Only The Light Moves.

[at Age 92:] There Are Places I'd Like To Return To. But Not As I Was Then But As I Am Now. 'cause I'm Trying To Understand. And I've Understood Nothing.

You May Not Believe In Magic But Something Very Strange Is Happening At This Very Moment. Your Head Has Dissolved Into Thin Air And I Can See The Rhododendrons Through Your Stomach. It's Not That You Are Dead Or Anything Dramatic Like That, It Is Simply That You Are Fading Away And I Can't Even Remember Your Name.

Thousands Of People Know My Flannel Knickers, And Though I Know This May Seem Flirtatious, It Is Not. I Am A Saint.