One Eventually Has Enough Even Of Oneself.

In The Labyrinth Of A Difficult Text, We Find Unmarked Forks In The Path, Detours, Blind Alleys, Loops That Deliver Us Back To Our Point Of Entry, And Finally The Monster Who Whispers An Unintelligible Truth In Our Ears.

In Love, We Worry More About The Meaning Of Silences Than The Meaning Of Words.

Smiling Half-reluctance Seems To Promise More Than The Frankest Gesture Of Desire.

Many Who Take Up Burdens Come To Resent Being Put Upon.

I Feel Disappointed, But I Don't Remember Just What I Expected.