Writing Is The Only Way

Fantasy Is One Of The Soul's Brighter Porcelains.

I Lived With The Terrible Knowledge That One Day I Would Be An Old Man Still Waiting For My Real Life To Start. Already, I Pitied That Old Man.

There Is No Teacher More Discriminating Or Transforming Than Loss.

Her Library Would Have Been Valuable To A Bibliophile Except She Treated Her Books Execrably. I Would Rarely Open A Volume That She Had Not Desecrated By Underlining Her Favorite Sections With A Ball-point Pen. Once I Had Told Her That I Would Rather See A Museum Bombed Than A Book Underlined, But She Dismissed My Argument As Mere Sentimentality. She Marked Her Books So That Stunning Images And Ideas Would Not Be Lost To Her.

In Families, There Are No Crimes Beyond Forgiveness.