She Mixes Religion With Desertion To Make

Despair Is The Price One Pays For Setting Himself An Impossible Aim.

A Man Kept His Character Even When He Was Insane.

Her Face Looked Ugly In The Attempt To Avoid Tears; It Was An Ugliness Which Bound Him To Her More Than Any Beauty Could Have Done. It Isn't Being Happy Together, He Thought As Though It Were A Fresh Discovery, That Makes One Love--it's Being Unhappy Together.

It Is The Storytellers Task To Elicit Sympathy And A Measure Of Understanding For Those Who Lie Outside The Boundaries Of State Approval.

Yesterday I Went Home With Him And We Did The Usual Things. I Haven't The Nerve To Put Them Down, But I'd Like To, Because Now When I'm Writing It's Already Tomorrow And I'm Afraid Of Getting To The End Of Yesterday. As Long As I Go On Writing, Yesterday Is Today And We Are Still Together