I know a man myself,” continued the doctor, “who has a pity for this and not for that, and was much mixed, as men would say, of woman and man. He wept for a friend who said, ‘I go to be queen of the carrier pigeons,’ and with that flew out into the night, though he, poor dolt, was picked up garbage. And I think it a most charming nature, no less, that can be so touched with what, to a thicker nerve, would appear merely ridiculous.

                                                                      —Djuna Barnes, Ryder