A Kindly Gesture Bestowed By Us On

Books, Books, Books. It Was Not That I Read So Much. I Read And Re-read The Same Ones. But All Of Them Were Necessary To Me. Their Presence, Their Smell, The Letters Of Their Titles, And The Texture Of Their Leather Bindings.

One Keeps Forgetting Old Age Up To The Very Brink Of The Grave.

I've Entered The World Of Wine Without Any Professional Training, But A Definite Appetite For Good Bottles.

Perhaps The Only Misplaced Curiosity Is That Which Persists In Trying To Find Out Here, On This Side Of Death, What Lies Beyond The Grave.

I Want Nothing From Love, In Short, But Love.