...sentences Swallowed And Sung Back

I Read Three Books A Week.

I Was Highly Aware, In Writing [the Book] Room, That There Are Unsavoury Aspects To Our Interest In Such Cases, And I Thought It Was Rather Honester To Include Discussion Of Media Representation In The Novel Itself Than To Cling To The High Moral Ground By Merely Avoiding Scenes Of Voyeurism, For Instance.

At The Door, There Was One Of Those Moment When Two People Realize That They Like Each Other More Than They Know Each Other. This Is Nicer Than The Opposite Situation, But More Awkward. You Try To Remember The Protocol For Touching. You Hate To Gush, Or Presume To Much, Yet You Are Unwilling To Let The Moment Pass Without Without Some Gesture

For All The Books In His Possession, He Still Failed To Read The Stories Written Plain As Day In The Faces Of The People Around Him.

There Are Some Tales Not For Telling, Whether Because They Are Too Long, Too Precious, Too Laughable, Too Painful, Too Easy To Need Telling Or Too Hard To Explain. After All, After Years And Travels My Secrets Are All I Have Left To Chew On In The Night.