But By The Time That

If There Were One More Thing I Could Do, It Would Be To Go On Safari Once Again.

Where A Pack Of Monkeys Had Traveled Over The Road, The Smell Of Them Lingered For A Long Time In The Air, A Dry And Stale, Mousy Smell.

As We Grow Old We Slowly Come To Believe That Everything Will Turn Out Badly For Us, And That Failure Is In The Nature Of Things; But Then We Do Not Much Mind What Happens To Us One Way Or The Other.

The Entire Being Of A Woman Is A Secret Which Should Be Kept.

Our Longing Is Our Pledge, And Blessed Are The Homesick, For They Shall Come Home.