Was It Fair To Say I Didn't

One Moment The World Is As It Is. The Next, It Is Something Entirely Different. Something It Has Never Been Before.

When I Write Something, Every Word Of It Is Meant. I Can't Say It Enough.

Because I Show You My Pain, I Do Not Of Necessity Love You.

‎there's No Way To Cheat A Sensualist Like Me, Somebody Who Can Die Laughing For Hours Over The Pattern Of The Carpet In A Hotel Lobby.

Wasn't It His Right To Listen To Opera, Read Poetry And Adventure Novels, Go To Europe Every Couple Of Months For Some Reason Or Another, And Drive His Porsche Over The Speed Limit Until He Found Out Who He Was?