The first time I saw a fingerbowl was at the home of my benefactress. [...] The water had a few cherry blossoms in it, and I thought it must be some clear sort of Japanese after-dinner soup and ate every bit of it, including the crisp little blossoms.

The silence between us was so profound I thought part of it must be my fault.

I drink sherry and wine by myself because I like it and I get the sensuous feeling of indulgence...luxury, bliss, erotic-tinged.

I am flushed and warm. I think I may be enormous, I am so stupidly happy, My wellingtons Squelching and squelching through the beautiful red.

I collect men with interesting names.

I have been holding a dialogue with myself and girding myself to stand fast without running.

There is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get.