A Crisis Unmasks Everyone.

The Desire To Create Literature Leads To Frights, Grunts, And Coy Looks.

Don't Milk The Cow Too Hard. She Will Kick You.

Literature Gives Us A Memory Of Lives We Did Not Lead.

I Am Never More Myself Than In My Self-betrayals.

A Small Boy Puts His Hand On The Wall, And Looks Down Intently As He Wriggles His Toes. The Birth Of Thought?