We Live, We Die, We Are Remembered,

What Happiness Is There In Just The Memory Of Happiness?

Irony ... May Be Defined As What People Miss.

The Better You Know Someone, The Less Well You Often See Them (and The Less Well They Can Therefore Be Transferred Into Fiction). They May Be So Close As To Be Out Of Focus, And There Is No Operating Novelist To Dispel The Blur.

Life Seemed Even More Of A Guessing Game Than Usual.

Love Is Just A System For Getting Someone To Call You Darling After Sex.