You Want In All Cases For The

One Drop Of Hatred In Your Soul Will Spread And Discolor Everything Like A Drop Of Black Ink In White Milk.

I Would Have A Flick Of Fear, As In A Dream When You Find Yourself In The Wrong Building Or Have Forgotten The Time For The Exam And Understand That This Is Only The Tip Of Some Shadowy Cataclysm Or Lifelong Mistake.

Every Year, When You're A Child, You Become A Different Person.

I Don't Always, Or Even Usually, Read Stories From Beginning To End. I Start Anywhere And Proceed In Either Direction. A Story Is Not Like A Road To Follow, It's More Like A House. You Go Inside And Stay There For A While.

I Despised Their Antics Because I Took Life Seriously And Had A Much More Lofty And Tender Notion Of Romance. But I Would Have Liked To Get Their Attention Just The Same.