Age Had Not Made Him Less Handsome,

Time Had Not Faded My Memories (as I Had Prayed To God It Might), Nor Had It Healed My Wounds As It Is Said Always To Do. I Began Each Day With The Hope That The Next Day Would Be Better, My Recollections A Little Less Pointed, But I Would Awake To The Same Pain, As If A Black Lamp Were Burning Eternally Inside Me, Radiating Darkness.

In Fact, My Entire Childhood Consisted Of Looking At Photographs In Which The Viewer Sees The Ball Behind The Line, Looking Through The Goal Net, And The Poor Goalkeeper In Front Of The Net.

I Believe That It Isn't Victories But Defeats That Promote Nationalism.

I Do Not Believe In A Personal Connection To God; That's Where It Gets Transcendental.

Heroic Dreams Are The Consolation Of The Unhappy. After All, When People Like Us Say We're Being Heroic, It Usually Means We're About To Kill Each Other--or Kill Ourselves.