I have thought for a long time that the way my clothes hang on me is more important than me inside them.
I went to the top of Vesuvius and looked in.
The head has its confines. The headโs got those all right, and the heart. The heart has its reasons.
Fashion is fickle, and I was published because I was fashionable. Because I was gay.
Happy is what you realize you are a fraction of a second before it's too late.
Words are like untying a corset - you can move into this great space with them.