A strange thing was that Bovary, while continually thinking of Emma, was forgetting her. He grew desperate as he felt this image fading from his memory in spite of all efforts to retain it. Yet every night he dreamt of her; it was always the same dream. He drew near her, but when he was about to clasp her she fell into decay in his arms.

Being a transsexual is not something that can be ignored or suppressed forever. Unlike the fascinations of the cross dresser or the partially altered transgenderist, the absolute compulsion of classical transsexualism is a matter of life and death.

I had the unenviable job of clearing one for somebody not long ago and the obstruction turned out to be a number of vampire's teabags gathered in a mass.

2003: Fans of the testudinate pace and art-house vibe of writer-director Sally Potter — editorial review of the DVD The Man Who Cried, http://amazon.com