“Don’t talk to me of love. Let’s talk of Paris.
I’m in paris with the slightest thing you do.
I’m in paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I’m in paris with…all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?”—James Fenton
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”—Jack Kerouac