Undressing Her Was An Act Of Recklessness,

A Delicate, Inexorable Lattice Of Inferences Began To Assemble Themselves, Like A Crystal, In The Old Man's Mind, Shivering, Catching The Light In Glints And Surmises.

Every Generation Loses The Messiah It Has Failed To Deserve.

I Found One Remaining Box Of Comics Which I Had Saved. When I Opened It Up And That Smell Came Pouring Out, That Old Paper Smell, I Was Struck By A Rush Of Memories, A Sense Of My Childhood Self That Seemed To Be Contained In There.

All Novels Are Sequels; Influence Is Bliss.

When Some Drunken Fool Asked If She Was A Lesbian, She Would Say, 'in Everything But Sexual Preference.