From A Certain Point Onward

Sometimes I Think I Can Expiate All My Past And Future Sins Through The Aching Of My Bones.

The Door Could Not Be Heard Slamming; They Had Probably Left It Open, As Is The Custom In Homes Where A Great Misfortune Has Occurred.

"don't You Want To Join Us?" I Was Recently Asked By An Acquaintance When He Ran Across Me Alone After Midnight In A Coffeehouse That Was Already Almost Deserted. "no, I Don't," I Said.

To Write Prescriptions Is Easy, But To Come To An Understanding With People Is Hard.

The Various Forms Of Despair At The Various Stations On The Road.