For If A Lover's Face Survives Emblazoned

The Real Choice We Have To Make Is Between Peace And Nationalism.

For The Traveler We See Leaning On His Neighbor Is An Honest And Well-meaning Man And Full Of Melancholy, Like Those Chekhov Characters So Laden With Virtues That They Never Know Success In Life.

...the Endless Repetition Of An Ordinary Miracle.

With The Death Of My Father, It Wasn't Just The Objects Of Everyday Life That Had Changed; Even The Most Ordinary Street Scenes Had Become Irreplaceable Mementos Of A Lost World Whose Every Detail Figured In The Meaning Of The Whole.

As Much As I Live I Shall Not Imitate Them Or Hate Myself For Being Different To Them