But When I Don't Smoke I Scarcely

A Map Is The Dead Body Of Where You've Been. A Map Is The Unborn Baby Of Where You're Going. There Are No Maps. Maps Are Pictures Of What Isn't.

I'd Always Assumed I Was The Central Character In My Own Story, But Now It Occured To Me I Might In Fact Be Only A Minor Character In Someone Else's.

Time's Arrow, We Are Told, Is A One-way Thing. . . Memory's Arrow, Like The Needle Of A Compass Too Close To A Lodestone, Spins In All Directions.

Me, What's That After All? An Arbitrary Limitation Of Being Bounded By The People Before And After And On Either Side. Where They Leave Off I Begin, And Vice Versa.

Fidelity Is A Matter Of Perception; Nobody Is Unfaithful To The Sea Or To Mountains Or To Death: Once Recognized They Fill The Heart.