...to Be Paid For One's Joy Is

He Knew Very Well That Love Could Be Like The Most Beautiful Singing, That It Could Make Death Inconsequential, That It Existed In Forms So Pure And Strong That It Was Capable Of Reordering The Universe. He Knew This, And That He Lacked It, And Yet As He Stood In The Courtyard Of The Palazzo Venezia, Watching Diplomats File Quietly Out The Gate, He Was Content, For He Suspected That To Command The Profoundest Love Might In The End Be Far Less Beautiful A Thing Than To Suffer Its Absence.

I've Never Had A Cup Of Coffee In My Life. I Can't Even Remain In The Same Room With Coffee.

One Is Attracted To Beauty. Beauty Is The Coordination Of Things, In Such A Way, That It Is What Attracts You. It's Almost Self-defining.

I'm Not Afraid," Rafi Said. "why Not?" "if I Die Tomorrow It Will Have Been Useless To Have Been Afraid Today.

The Streets Of New York And Some Wards Of Its Venerable Institutions Were Packed With People Who, Despite Being Entirely Forsaken, Had Episodes Of Glory That Made The Career Of Alexander The Great Seem Like A Day In The Life Of A File Clerk.