Truth Is Singular. Its 'versions' Are Mistruths.

Autumn Is Leaving Its Mellowness Behind For Its Spiky, Rotted Stage. Don't Remember Summer Even Saying Goodbye.

Perhaps All Human Interaction Is About Wanting And Getting.

This World, He Thinks, Contains Just One Masterpiece, And That Is Itself.

Mother Used To Say Escape Is Never Further Than The Nearest Book.

Words Are What You Fight With But What You Fight About Is Whether Or Not You're Afraid Of Them.