There were occasionally rifts in the cloud where the face of a woman appeared, frowning.

Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on that interminable list!), but one of these days there'll be nothing left with which to venture forth. Why should I share you? Why don't you get rid of someone else for a change?

I love you. I love you, but I’m turning to my verses and my heart is closing like a fist.

Leaf! you are so big! How can you change your color, then just fall! As if there were no such thing as integrity!

There is a geography which holds its hands just so far from the breast and pushes you away, crying so.

I have been to lots of parties and acted perfectly disgraceful but I never actually collapsed oh Lana Turner we love you get up

Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern. The country is grey and brown and white in trees, snows and skies of laughter always diminishing, less funny not just darker, not just grey. It may be the coldest day of the year, what does he think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, perhaps I am myself again.