How Goodness Heightens Beauty!

But Isn't It True That An Author Can Write Only About Himself?

In The Sunset Of Dissolution, Everything Is Illuminated By The Aura Of Nostalgia, Even The Guillotine.

When You Sit Face To Face With Someone Who Is Pleasant, Respectful, And Polite, You Have Hard Time Reminding Yourself That Nothing He Says Is True/sincere.

Love Is A Continual Interrogation. I Don’t Know Of A Better Definition Of Love.

We Live Everything As It Comes, Without Warning, Like An Actor Going On Cold.