The Viennese Wash Everything. Where Else In

One Of The Saddest Realities Is That We Never Know When Our Lives Are At Their Peak. Only After It Is Over And We Have Some Kind Of Perspective Do We Realize How Good We Had It A Day, A Month, Five Years Ago.

There Are People We Meet In Life Who Miss Being Important To Us By Inches, Days, Or Heartbeats. Another Place Or Time Or A Different Emotional Frame Of Mind And We Would Willingly Fall Into Their Arms; Gladly Take Up Their Challenge Or Invitation. But As It Is, We Encounter Them When We Are Discontent Or Content And They Are Not. Whatever They Are, We Are Not And Vice Versa. Two Trains Going In Different Directions That Pass For A Few Powerful Moments At Full Speed, Blasting Noise And Wind But Then They Are Gone. Whatever Serious Chemistry Might Have Been Possible If, Isn’t.

Writing A Short Story Is Like Having A Short Intense Affair, Whereas Writing A Novel Is Like A Long Rich Marriage.

Old People Are Often Impatient, But For What?

Yo Can Always Take Back The Lost Parts Of Yourself If You Can Find And Recognize Them.