Forgive Me For Stating The Obvious, But

The Fresh Smell Of Coffee Soon Wafted Through The Apartment, The Smell That Separates Night From Day.

Time Flows In A Strange Way On Sundays.

I'm A Writer. I Don't Support Any War. That's My Principle.

You Don't Have To Judge The Whole World By Your Own Standards. Not Everybody Is Like You, You Know.

It Was A Narrow World, A World That Was Standing Still. But The Narrower It Became, The More It Betook Of Stillness, The More This World That Enveloped Me Seemed To Overflow With Things And People That Could Only Be Called Strange. They Had Been There All The While, It Seemed, Waiting In The Shadows For Me To Stop Moving. And Every Time The Wind-up Bird Came To My Yard To Wind Its Spring, The World Descendedmore Deeply Into Chaos.