Sometimes We Love With Nothing More Than

I Still Love You. And Sometimes, My Friend, The Love That I Have, And Can't Give To You, Crushes The Breath From My Chest. Sometimes, Even Now, My Heart Is Drowning In A Sorrow That Has No Stars Without You, And No Laughter, And No Sleep.

The Man Grinned Back At Me With That Perfect Sincerity We Fear And Call Simple-minded.

Anything That Can Be Put In A Nut Shell Should Remain There.

The Only Victory That Really Counts In Prison Is Survival. But Survival Means More Than Simply Being Alive. It's Not Just The Body That Must Survive A Jail Term; The Spirit And The Will And The Heart Have To Make It Through As Well. If Any One Of Them Is Broken Or Destroyed, The Man Whose Living Body Walks Through The Gate, At The End Of His Sentence, Can't Be Said To Have Survived It. And It's For Those Small Victories Of The Heart, And The Spirit, And The Will That We Sometimes Risk The Body That Cradles Them.

Sooner Or Later, Fate Puts Us Together With All The People, One By One, Who Show Us What We Could, And Shouldn’t, Let Ourselves Become. Sooner Or Later We Meet The Drunkard, The Waster, The Betrayer, The Ruthless Mind, And The Hate-filled Heart. But Fate Loads The Dice, Of Course, Because We Usually Find Ourselves Loving Or Pitying Almost All Of Those People. And It’s Impossible To Despise Someone You Honestly Pity, And To Shun Someone You Truly Love.