The Very Condition Of Woman Is So

This Head Has Risen Above Its Hair In A Moment Of Abandon Known Only To Men Who Have Drawn Their Feet Out Of Their Boots To Walk Awhile In The Corridors Of The Mind.

The Very Condition Of Woman Is So Subject To Hazard, So Complex, And So Grievous, That To Place Her At One Moment Is But To Displace Her At The Next.

The Truth Is How You Say It, And To Be 'one's Self' Is The Most Shocking Custom Of All.

Only The Impossible Lasts Forever.

The Unendurable Is The Beginning Of The Curve Of Joy.