Self-consciousness Is The Destroyer Of

It Is Shaming Sometimes How The Body Will Not, Or Cannot, Lie About Emotions. Who, For Decorum’s Sake, Has Ever Slowed His Heart, Or Muted A Blush?

I Like To Think That It Isn't Weakness Or Evasion, But A Final Act Of Kindness, A Stand Against Oblivion And Despair.

...beauty, She Had Discovered Occupied A Narrow Band. Ugliness, On The Hand, Had Infinite Variation.

I Couldn't Think About Novels At All. It Seemed The Only Writing That Was Appropriate To That Horrendous Event Was Journalism, Reportage. And, In Fact, I Think The Profession Rose Quite Honorably To The Task. Novelists Require A Slower Turnover, I Mean, In Time.

He Saw That No One Owned Anything Really. It's All Rented, Or Borrowed. Our Possessions Will Outlast Us, We'll Desert Them In The End.