Beauty Is Like Success: We Can't Love

A Writer Doesn't Write For His Readers, Does He? Yet He Has To Take Elementary Precautions All The Same, To Make Them Comfortable.

My Passion For Sarah Had Killed Simple Lust Forever. Never Again Would I Be Able To Enjoy A Woman Without Love.

You Cannot Control What You Love--you Watch It Driving Recklessly Towards The Broken Bridge, The Torn-up Track, The Horror Of Seventy Years Ahead.

Childhood Was The Germ Of All Mistrust. You Were Cruelly Joked Upon And Then You Cruelly Joked. You Lost The Remembrance Of Pain Through Inflicting It.

You Must Promise Me. You Can't Desire The End Without Desiring The Means.' Ah, But One Can, He Thought, One Can: One Can Desire The Peace Of Victory Without Desiring The Ravaged Towns.