Eventually, Everything Gets Stuck Between A Pair

It's The Arrangement Of Events Which Makes The Stories. It's Throwing Away, Compressing, Underlining. Hindsight Can Give Structure To Anything, But You Have To Be Able To See It. Breathing, Waking And Sleeping: Our Lives Are Steamed And Shaped Into Stories. Knowing That Is What Keeps Me From Going Insane, And Though I Don't Like To Admit It, Sometimes It's The Only Thing.

It Occurs To Her That She Should Record This Flash Of Insight In Her Journal - Otherwise She Is Sure To Forget, For She Is Someone Who Is Always Learning And Forgetting And Obliged To Learn Again.

Eventually, Everything Gets Stuck Between A Pair Of Parentheses Or Buried In The Bottom Of A Trunk.

Happiness Is The Lucky Pane Of Glass You Carry In Your Head. It Takes All Your Cunning Just To Hang On To It, And Once It's Smashed You Have To Move Into A Different Sort Of Life.

The Larger Loneliness Of Our Lives Evolves From Our Unwillingness To Spend Ourselves, Stir Ourselves. We Are Always Damping Down Our Inner Weather, Permitting Ourselves The Comforts Of Postponement, Of Rehearsals