Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.
I warn you, I refuse to be an object.
We went down into the silent garden. Dawn is the time when nothing breathes, the hour of silence. Everything is transfixed, only the light moves.
Art is a magic which makes the hours melt away and even days dissolve into seconds
People under seventy and over seven are very unreliable if they are not cats.
There are things that are not sayable. That’s why we have art.
I've always had access to other worlds. We all do because we dream.
Partying has never been my thing. I've been around some wild people. I've been in the same room and watched them experiment, and that's been entertaining.
Honestly, I don't think Victoria has too many Secrets left. . . might be time to prayerfully consider a name change.
The dear, stupid body is as easily satisfied as a spaniel.
RJD was pretty much heavy metal personified, a tiny 5-foot-4-inch sorcerer with a mangy mane, demonic eyes and sly grin, all coupled to a simply huge, operatic voice, a diminutive powerhouse who prowled the stage like a feline elf and who was, it turns out, also finely intelligent and well spoken, an actual gentleman in a genre known all too well for its bombastic, monosyllabic doltbuckets. A rare thing indeed.