We Commit Two Wrongs When We Fail

I Was Happy Enough; I Knew That During The Night The Whole City Might Go Up In Flames And All Its People Be Killed, But The Ravines, Houses, And Footpaths Would Wake In The Morning Calm And Unchanged.

Suffering Is By No Means A Privilege, A Sign Of Nobility, A Reminder Of God. Suffering Is A Fierce, Bestial Thing, Commonplace, Uncalled For, Natural As Air. It Is Intangible; No One Can Grasp It Or Fight Against It; It Dwells In Time - Is The Same Thing As Time; If It Comes In Fits And Starts, That Is Only So As To Leave The Sufferer More Defenseless During The Moments That Follow, Those Long Moments When One Relives The Last Bout Of Torture And Waits For The Next.

Give Me The Ready Hand Rather Than The Ready Tongue.

One Does Not Kill Oneself For Love Of A Woman, But Because Love - Any Love - Reveals Us In Our Nakedness, Our Misery, Our Vulnerability, Our Nothingness.

There Is Nothing Fine About Being A Child: It Is Fine, When We Are Old, To Look Back To When We Were Children.