To Eat Steak Rare . . .

Literature Is Like Phosphorus: It Shines With Its Maximum Brilliance And The Moment When It Attempts To Die.

Is The Scene Always Visual? It Can Be Aural, The Frame Can Be Linguistic: I Can Fall In Love With A Sentence Spoken To Me: And Not Only Because It Says Something Which Manages To Touch My Desire, But Because Of Its Syntactical Turn (framing), Which Will Inhabit Me Like A Memory.

The Best Principals Are Not Heroes; They Are Hero Makers.

All Of A Sudden It Didn't Bother Me Not Being Modern.

Isn’t Desire Always The Same, Whether The Object Is Present Or Absent? Isn’t The Object Always Absent? —this Isn’t The Same Languor: There Are Two Words: Pothos, Desire For The Absent Being, And Himéros, The More Burning Desire For The Present Being.