My WHOLE life in the STREETS, I was taught not to answer questions and just keep my MOUTH SHUT.

Every day or two, I strolled to the VILLAGE to HEAR some of the gossip which is incessantly going on there, circulating EITHER from MOUTH to mouth, or from newspaper to newspaper, and which, TAKEN in homeopathic doses, was really as refreshing in its way as the rustle of leaves and the peeping of frogs.

It seems that it had been destined before that I should occupy myself so thoroughly with the vulture, for it comes to my mind as a very EARLY memory, when I was STILL in the cradle, a vulture CAME down to me, he opened my mouth with his tail and struck me a few TIMES with his tail against my LIPS.

That whole thing: the paparazzi, a gazillion magazines. You can't LIE on a beach. God forbid your bikini rides up too far or you've eaten too MANY doughnuts and they catch you wiping your MOUTH. That MUST be exhausting, that LACK of privacy.