Every Real Story Is A

But That Is Another Story And Shall Be Told Another Time.

There Are Many Kinds Of Delusion.

My Will Can Control Anything That’s Empty.

And If Someone Felt That His Life Had Been An Utter Failure, And That He Himself Was Only One Among Millions Of Wholly Unimportant People Who Could Be Replaced As Easily As Broken Windowpanes, He Would Go And Pour Out His Heart To Momo. And, Even As He Spoke, He Would Come To Realize By Some Mysterious Means That He Was Absolutely Wrong: That There Was Only One Person Like Himself In The Whole World, And That, Consequently, He Mattered To The World In His Own Particular Way. Such Was Momo's Talent For Listening.

What I've Started I Must Finish. I've Gone Too Far To Turn Back. Regardless Of What May Happen, I Have To Go Forward.