Old among the young, poor among the rich, I adopt an air of indefinable superiority.

The modernist writers found despair inspirational.

Every parent can imagine the joys of child abuse.

A blunt statement can be as false as any other.

I reject all evidence that my fabulous beloved is an ordinary person who worries, watches TV, and has bouts of indigestion.

When my beloved arrives, I yawn. When my beloved departs, I weep.

The world needs an enema.