We're Not Meant For Happiness, You And

When One Is Writing A Novel In The First Person, One Must Be That Person.

Will You Look Into My Eyes And Tell Me That You Love Me Now?

I Wish I Was A Woman Of About Thirty-six Dressed In Black Satin With A String Of Pearls.

...but I Should Say That Kindliness, And Sincerity, And If I May Say So--modesty--are Worth Far More To A Man, To A Husband, Than All The Wit And Beauty In The World.

Women Want Love To Be A Novel, Men A Short Story.