Friendship Was Always Contingent.

Hunger Is A Powerful Reorganizer Of The Conscience.

I'm Bad At Picking Heroes.

In Paradise There Are No Stories, Because There Are No Journeys.

I Suppose It's Everyone's Fate To Be Reduced To Quaintness By Those Younger Than Themselves.

This Afternoon Held That Special Quality Of Mournful Emptiness I've Connected With Late Sunday Afternoons Ever Since Childhood: The Feeling Of Having Nothing To Do.