Writer Speaks A Stench.

There Is A Destination But No Way There; What We Refer To As Way Is Hesitation.

As Gregor Samsa Awoke One Morning From Uneasy Dreams He Found Himself Transformed In His Bed Into A Gigantic Insect.

If The Literature We Are Reading Does Not Wake Us, Why Then Do We Read It? A Literary Work Must Be An Ice-axe To Break The Sea Frozen Inside Us.

It Is Comforting To Reflect That The Disproportion Of Things In The World Seems To Be Only Arithmetical.

No Matter How Much You Keep Encouraging Someone Who Is Blindfolded To Stare Through The Cloth, He Still Won’t See A Thing.".