In Adultery, There Is Usually Tenderness And

To Arrange A Library Is To Practice In A Quiet And Modest Way The Art Of Criticism.

I Saw A Sunset In Queretaro That Seemed To Reflect The Color Of A Rose In Bengal.

Emma Dropped The Paper. Her First Impression Was Of A Weak Feeling In Her Stomach And In Her Knees; Then Of Blind Guilt, Of Unreality, Of Coldness, Of Fear; Then She Wished That It Were Already The Next Day. Immediately Afterwards She Realized That That Wish Was Futile Because The Death Of Her Father Was The Only Thing That Had Happened In The World, And It Would Go On Happening Endlessly.

Life And Death Have Been Lacking In My Life.

We Are Our Memory, We Are That Chimerical Museum Of Shifting Shapes, That Pile Of Broken Mirrors.