Music Is Important For One's Health.

How Will I Ever Get Out Of This Labyrinth!

She Would Defend Herself, Saying That Love, No Matter What Else It Might Be, Was A Natural Talent. She Would Say: You Are Either Born Knowing How, Or You Never Know.

Ultimately, Literature Is Nothing But Carpentry.

For You Was I Born, For You Do I Have Life, For You Will I Die, For You Am I Now Dying.

Her Laugh Was Sad And Taciturn, Seemingly Detached From Any Feeling Of The Moment, Like Something She Kept In The Cupboard And Took Out Only When She Had To, Using It With No Feeling Of Ownership, As If The Infrequency Of Her Smiles Had Made Her Forget The Normal Way To Use Them.