A Cold In The Head Causes Less

You Can Recover From The Writing Malady Only By Falling Mortally Ill And Dying.

Our Dream Dashes Itself Against The Great Mystery Like A Wasp Against A Window Pane. Less Merciful Than Man, God Never Opens The Window.

Writing Is The Best Way To Talk Without Being Interrupted.

There Is A Justice, But We Do Not Always See It. Discreet, Smiling, It Is There, At One Side, A Little Behind Injustice, Which Makes A Big Noise.

Those Moments When You Feel You Want To Read Something Truly Beautiful. The Eyes Make A Tour Of The Library, And There Is Nothing. Then You Decide To Take No Matter What, And It Is Full Of Beautiful Things.