The Pronoun Is One Of The Most

Whole Sight; Or All The Rest Is Desolation.

I Just Think Of Things As Beautiful Or Not. Can't You Understand? I Don't Think Of Good Or Bad. Just Of Beautiful Or Ugly. I Think A Lot Of Nice Things Are Ugly And A Lot Of Nasty Things Are Beautiful.

You Wish To Be Liked. I Wish Simply To Be. One Day You Will Know What That Means, Perhaps. And You Will Smile. Not Against Me. But With Me.

I Have A Strange Illusion Quite Often. I Think I've Become Deaf. I Have To Make A Little Noise To Prove I'm Not. I Clear My Throat To Show Myself That Everything Is Normal. It's Like The Little Japanese Girl They Found In The Ruins Of Hiroshima. Everything Dead; And She Was Singing To Her Doll.

The Dead Live." "how Do They Live?" "by Love.