Where There Is True Art And Genuine

Colour Is The Touch Of The Eye, Music To The Deaf, A Word Out Of Darkness.

Happiness Is Holding Someone In Your Arms And Knowing You Hold The Whole World.

With The Death Of My Father, It Wasn't Just The Objects Of Everyday Life That Had Changed; Even The Most Ordinary Street Scenes Had Become Irreplaceable Mementos Of A Lost World Whose Every Detail Figured In The Meaning Of The Whole.

The Snow Reminded Me Of The Beauty And Mystery Of Creation, Of The Essential Joy That Is Life.

I Have Hired A Bodyguard, On The Recommendation Of My Friends And The Government. It's Outrageous, Having To Live Like This.