Memory Does Not Make Films, It Makes

And I Ran After That Voice Through The Streets So As Not To Lose Sight Of The Splendid Wreath Of Bodies Gliding Over The City, And I Realized With Anguish In My Heart That They Were Flying Like Birds And I Was Falling Like A Stone, That They Had Wings And I Would Never Have Any.

Dogs Are Our Link To Paradise. They Don't Know Evil Or Jealousy Or Discontent.

People Derived Too Much Pleasure From Seeing Their Fellow Man Morally Humiliated To Spoil That Pleasure By Hearing Out An Explanation.

I Find Myself Fascinating.

The Emotion Of Love Gives All Of Us A Misleading Illusion Of Knowing The Other.