And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.
Never miss a party...good for the nerves--like celery.
What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon? And the day after that, and the next thirty years?
Sometimes it is harder to deprive oneself of a pain than of a pleasure.
Her body calculated to a millimeter to suggest a bud yet guarantee a flower.
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you -- like music to the musician or Marxism to the Communist -- or else it is nothing, an empty, formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.