It Was A Silence That Heard Itself,

Words Are Good For Saying What Things Are, But Sometimes They Don't Function For What Things Aren't.

Whenever Summer Rolls Around I Begin To Realize That I'm A Complete And Utter Book Snob. In Relation To Reading, I Have Absolutely No Guilty Pleasures At All. No Graphic Novels. No Murder Mysteries. My Summer Read Is Really No Different From My Winter Read. I Know Many Bookshops And Magazines Would Have Me Believe That Our Summer Forays Are Different, But Literature Is Literature, And Unfortunately Snobbery Is Snobbery.

He Said To Me Once That Most Of The Time People Use The Word Love As Just Another Way To Show Off They're Hungry. The Way He Said It Went Something Like: Glorify Their Appetites.

What Was A Life Anyway? An Accumulation Of Small Shelves Of Incident.

Goodness Was More Difficult Than Evil. Evil Men Knew That More Than Good Men. That's Why They Became Evil. That's Why It Stuck With Them. Evil Was For Those Who Could Never Reach The Truth. It Was A Mask For Stupidity And Lack Of Love. Even If People Laughed At The Notion Of Goodness, If They Found It Sentimental, Or Nostalgic, It Didn't Matter -- It Was None Of Those Things, He Said, And It Had To Be Fought For.