Hate Is A Lack Of Imagination.

Time Has Its Revenges, But Revenge Seems So Often Sour. Wouldn’t We All Do Better Not Trying To Understand, Accepting The Fact That No Human Being Will Ever Understand Another, Not A Wife With A Husband, Nor A Parent A Child? Perhaps That’s Why Men Have Invented God – A Being Capable Of Understanding.

She Was Not Too Young To Be Wise, But She Was Too Young To Know That Wisdom Shouldn't Be Spoken Aloud When You Are Happy.

So Much In Writing Depends On The Superficiality Of One's Days.

Death Never Mattered At Those Times - In The Early Days I Even Used To Pray For It: The Shattering Annihilation That Would Prevent For Ever The Getting Up, The Putting On Of Clothes, The Wathchign Her Torch Trail Across To The Opposite Side Of The Common Like The Tail-light Of A Low Car Driving Away.

Hatred Seems To Work On The Same Glands As Love: It Even Produces The Same Actions. If We Had Not Been Taught How To Interpret The Story Of The Passion, Would We Have Been Able To Say From Their Actions Alone Whether It Was The Jealous Judas Or The Cowardly Peter Who Loved Christ?