Of Course I Think Of The Past

She Was Nervous About The Future; It Made Her Indelicate. She Was One Of The Most Unimportantly Wicked Women Of Her Time --because She Could Not Let Her Time Alone, And Yet Could Never Be A Part Of It. She Wanted To Be The Reason For Everything And So Was The Cause Of Nothing. She Had The Fluency Of Tongue And Action Meted Out By Divine Providence To Those Who Cannot Think For Themselves. She Was The Master Of The Over-sweet Phrase, The Over-tight Embrace.

New York Is The Meeting Place Of The Peoples, The Only City Where You Can Hardly Find A Typical American.

To Love Without Criticism Is To Be Betrayed.

I Am Not A Critic; To Me Criticism Is So Often Nothing More Than The Eye Garrulously Denouncing The Shape Of The Peephole That Gives Access To Hidden Treasure.

Suffering For Love Is How I Have Learned Practically Everything I Know, Love Of Grandmother Up And On.