For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.
My biography of Frank Sinatra is not paean to his music but rather an illumination of the man behind the music, who once described himself as 'an 18-karat manic-depressive who lived a life of violent emotional contradictions with an over-acute capacity for sadness as well as happiness.'
Cats know how to obtain food without labor, shelter without confinement, and love without penalties.

