All Good Dialogue Perhaps Deals With Something

To The Sun Rome Owes Its Underlying Glow, And Its Air Called Golden - To Me, More The Yellow Of White Wine; Like Wine It Raises Agreeability To Poetry.

When You Love Someone All Your Saved Up Wishes Start Coming Out.

Disappointment Tears The Bearable Film Off Life.

Each Of Us Keeps, Battened Down Inside Himself, A Sort Of Lunatic Giant; Impossible Socially, But Full Scale; And It's The Knockings And Battering We Sometimes Hear In Each Other That Keep Our Banter From Utter Banality.

Temperamentally, The Writer Exists On Happenings, On Contacts, Conflicts, Action And Reaction, Speed, Pressure, Tension. Were He Acontemplative Purely, He Would Not Write.