See all the women seated, youth in their face lifts, old age in their hands.

Revenge is what I want. Nothing but pure unadulterated revenge. But my mother brought me up to be a lady.

I'm starved for love. Not ordinary love but real love. The love that's like music or something.

See all the women seated, youth in their face lifts, old age in their hands.

To marry the Irish is to look for poverty.

The purpose of writing is to make your mother and father drop dead with shame.

And no. I must not go on thinking. For the pain will never go away. You just go on and live. In the dust of desertion. Still falling where last I loved.