Nationality Isn't Soul.

One's Fantasy Goes For A Walk And Returns With A Bride.

How Can We Be Strangers If We Both Believe In God?

A Man Has To Construct, Invent, His Freedom.

A Man Is An Island In The Only Sense That Matters, Not An Easy Way To Be. We Live In Mystery, A Cosmos Of Separate Lonely Bodies, Men, Insects, Stars. It Is All Loneliness And Men Know It Best.

The Past Exudes Legend: One Can't Make Pure Clay Of Time's Mud. There Is No Life That Can Be Recaptured Wholly; As It Was.which Is To Say That All Biography Is Ultimately Fiction.