I've Always Been Suspicious Of Collective Truths.

The Light Of Memory, Or Rather The Light That Memory Lends To Things, Is The Palest Light Of All. I Am Not Quite Sure Whether I Am Dreaming Or Remembering, Whether I Have Lived My Life Or Dreamed It. Just As Dreams Do, Memory Makes Me Profoundly Aware Of The Unreality, The Evanescence Of The World, A Fleeting Image In The Moving Water.

That's How We Stay Young These Days: Murder And Suicide.

Everything That Has Been Will Be, Everything That Will Be Is, Everything That Will Be Has Been.

It's When I Am Fully Conscious That I Ask Questions.

You Can Only Predict Things After They Have Happened.