...the World She Ran Through Loved Her

A Story Was A Form Of Telepathy. By Means Of Inking Symbols Onto A Page, She Was Able To Send Thoughts And Feelings From Her Mind To Her Reader's. It Was A Magical Process, So Commonplace That No One Stopped To Wonder At It.

Someone Once Asked Me "if Your Life Could Be Extended To 150 And You Could Start Another Career, Would You?" And I Said "no, Thanks, I Think I'll Stick At This."

Self-consciousness Is The Destroyer Of Erotic Joy.

No Emergency Was Ever Dealt With Effectively By Democratic Process.

It Wasn't Torpor That Kept Her - She Was Often Restless To The Point Of Irritability. She Simply Liked To Feel That She Was Prevented From Leaving, That She Was Needed.