In Love-making, As In Other Arts, Those

All The World Is Made Of Faith, And Trust, And Pixie Dust.

Wendy, Wendy, When You Are Sleeping In Your Silly Bed You Might Be Flying About With Me Saying Funny Things To The Stars.

May God Blast Anyone Who Writes A Biography Of Me.

You Were Hidden Behind Walls Of Ice; No Man Had Passed Them; I Broke Them Down And Love Leapt To Love, And You Lie Here, My Beautiful, Love In The Arms Of Its Lover.

She Liked His Tears So Much That She Put Out Her Beautiful Finger And Let Them Run Over It. Her Voice Was So Low That At First He Could Not Make Out What She Said. Then He Made It Out. She Was Saying That She Thought She Could Get Well Again If Children Believed In Fairies.