I shudder at the thought of men.... I'm due to fall in love again
Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.
One more drink and I'd have been under the host.
Because your eyes are slant and slow, Because your hair is sweet to touch, My heart is high again; but oh, I doubt if this will get me much.
The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.
Somebody was using the pencil.