If We Had Time And No Money,

We Who Were Loved Will Never Unlive That Crippling Fever.

Our Personalities Seem Dangerously To Blur And Overlap With Our Mother's; And, In A Desperate Attempt To Know Where Mother Ends And Daughter Begins, We Perform Radical Surgery.

The Password Is A Flicker Of An Eyelash.

War Is An Absolute Failure Of Imagination, Scientific And Political.

I Feel More Helpless With You Than Without You.