Love Is A Drama Of Contradictions.

What Do I Have In Common With Jews? I Don't Even Have Anything In Common With Myself.

Every Word First Looks Around In Every Direction Before Letting Itself Be Written Down By Me.

I'm Thinking Only Of My Illness And My Health, Though Both, The First As Well As The Second, Are You.

The Door Could Not Be Heard Slamming; They Had Probably Left It Open, As Is The Custom In Homes Where A Great Misfortune Has Occurred.

Death Confronts Us Not Unlike The Historical Battle Scene That Hangs On The Wall Of The Classroom. It Is Our Task To Obscure Or Quite Obliterate The Picture By Our Deeds While We Are Still In This World.