Life Is Fits And Starts, Mostly Fits.

Since Grief Only Aggravates Your Loss, Grieve Not For What Is Past.

Fiction Doesn’t Tell Us Something We Don’t Know, It Tells Us Something We Know But Don’t Know That We Know.

Why Is It That One Can Look At A Lion Or A Planet Or An Owl Or At Someone's Finger As Long As One Pleases, But Looking Into The Eyes Of Another Person Is, If Prolonged Past A Second, A Perilous Affair?

The Fact Is I Am Quite Happy In A Movie, Even A Bad Movie. Other People, So I Have Read, Treasure Memorable Moments In Their Lives.

One Of The Peculiar Ironies Of Being A Human Self In The Cosmos: A Stranger Approaching You In The Street Will In A Second's Glance See You Whole, Size You Up, Place You In A Way In Which You Cannot And Never Will, Even Though You Have Spent A Lifetime With Yourself, Live In The Century Of The Self, And Therefore Ought To Know Yourself Best Of All.