Comfortable means gradually more and more flattened down, more and more blunt - less and less sharp and biting into you.

To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing.

It is for God to fix the time who knows no time.

The man has a theory. The woman has hipbones. Here comes Death.

The beloved's innocence brutalizes the lover. As the singing of a mad person behind you on the train enrages you, its beautiful animal-like teeth shining amid black planes of paint. As Helen enrages history. Senza uscita.

I am a drop of gold he would say I am molten matter returned from the core of earth to tell you interior things-

That night we made love "the real way" which we had not yet attempted although married six months. Big mystery. No one knew where to put their leg and to this day I'm not sure we got it right. He seemed happy. You're like Venice he said beautifully. Early next day I wrote a short talk ("On Defloration") which he stole and had published in a small quarterly magazine. Overall this was a characteristic interaction between us. Or should I say ideal. Neither of us had ever seen Venice.