Families Hold Each Other In

A Good Novel Begins With A Small Question And Ends With A Bigger One.

The Truth Came Slowly Like A Story Told By People Interrupting Each Other.

I Was The Goldfish That Leapt Out Of The Bowl.

There Was No Way To Grasp The Reality Of The Present Which Slid Away Each Second, Invisible As Air; Reality Only Existed After The Fact, In One's Vision Of The Past.

The Minute You Become Conscious That You Are Doing Good, That's The Minute You Have To Stop Because From Then On It's Wrong.