My name is Rhoda Morgenstern. I was born in the Bronx, New York in December of 1941. I’ve always felt responsible for World War II. The first thing I remember liking that liked me back was food. I had a bad puberty; it lasted seventeen years. I’m a high school graduate. I went to art school. My entrance exam was on a book of matches. …
Your tread must be light and sure, as though your path were upon rice paper. It is said, a Shaolin priest can walk through walls. Looked for, he can not be seen. Listened for, he can not be heard. Touched, can not be felt. This rice paper is the test. Fragile as the wings of the dragonfly, clinging as the cocoon of the silk worm. …
This is a Burger King town, it’s made just for me! This is a Burger King town, we know how burgers should be! Right up the road, left at the sign. My way, your way, one at a time, hot off the fire with anything on it! And don’t it feel good when it’s just how you want it? This is a Burger King town, …
That request came from his wife. Deep down, he knew she was right, but he also knew that someday, he would return to her. With nowhere else to go, he appeared at the home of his childhood friend, Oscar Madison. Sometime earlier, Madison’s wife had thrown him out, requesting that he never return. Can two divorced men share an apartment without driving each other crazy? …
Don’t go to bed, with no price on your head. No, no, don’t do it. Fon’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time, yeah, don’t do it. And keep your eye on the sparrow, when the going gets narrow. Don’t do it, don’t do it. Where can I go where the cold winds don’t blow, Now. Well, well, well. The world looks mighty …
Andra Yogi 
