Time Spent With A Cat Is Never

By An Image We Hold On To Our Lost Treasures, But It Is The Wrenching Loss That Forms The Image, Composes, Binds The Bouquet.

A Woman Who Thinks She Is Intelligent Demands The Same Rights As Man. An Intelligent Woman Gives Up.

Voluptuaries, Consumed By Their Senses, Always Begin By Flinging Themselves With A Great Display Of Frenzy Into An Abyss. But They Survive, They Come To The Surface Again. And They Develop A Routine Of The Abyss: It's Four O Clock. At Five I Have My Abyss.

If We Want To Be Sincere, We Must Admit That There Is A Well-nourished Love And An Ill-nourished Love. And The Rest Is Literature.

The Day After That Wedding Night I Found That A Distance Of A Thousand Miles, Abyss And Discovery And Irremediable Metamorphosis, Separated Me From The Day Before.