You Can't Change The Past,

I Think All Sorrows Can Be Borne If You Put Them Into A Story Or Tell A Story About Them.

The Lime Trees Were In Bloom. But In The Early Morning Only A Faint Fragrance Drifted Through The Garden, An Airy Message, An Aromatic Echo Of The Dreams During The Short Summer Night.

Do You Know...what I Think Is A Great Pity? It Is This: That We Have All Become Such Skeptics That We Hardly Believe What Our Pious Grandmothers Told Us.

I Belong To An Ancient, Idle, Wild And Useless Tribe, Perhaps I Am Even One Of The Last Members Of It, Who For Many Thousands Of Years, In All Countries And Parts Of The World, Has, Now And Again, Stayed For A Time Among The Hard-working Honest People In Real Life, And Sometimes Has Thus Been Fortunate Enough To Create Another Sort Of Reality For Them, Which In Some Way Or Another, Has Satisfied Them. I Am A Storyteller.

My Love Was Both Humble And Audacious, Like That Of A Page For His Lady.