The Ways In Which A Book, Once

Life … Is A Bit Like Reading. … If All Your Responses To A Book Have Already Been Duplicated And Expanded Upon By A Professional Critic, Then What Point Is There To Your Reading? Only That It’s Yours. Similarly, Why Live Your Life? Because It’s Yours. But What If Such An Answer Becomes Less And Less Convincing?

Life Isn't Just Addition And Subtraction. There's Also The Accumulation, The Multiplication, Of Loss, Of Failure.

May You Be Ordinary, As The Poet Once Wished The New-born Baby.

If You Remember Your Past Too Well You Start Blaming Your Present For It. Look What They Did To Me, That's What Caused Me To Be Like This, It's Not My Fault. Permit Me To Correct You: It Probably Is Your Fault. And Kindly Spare Me The Details.

You Grew Old First Not In Your Own Eyes, But In Other People's Eyes; Then, Slowly, You Agreed With Their Opinion Of You.