All Good Things Pass Away.

For That Reason You Can't Write With Music Playing, And Anyone Who Says He Can Is Either Writing Badly, Or Not Listening To The Music, Or Lying. You Need To Hear What You're Writing, And For That You Need Silence

One Curious Thing About Growing Up Is That You Don't Only Move Forward In Time; You Move Backwards As Well, As Pieces Of Your Parents' And Grandparents' Lives Come To You.

Her Last Conscious Thought Was Disgust At Life; Her Senses Had Lied To Her. The World Was Not Made Of Energy And Delight But Of Foulness, Betrayal, And Lassitude. Living Was Hateful, And Death Was No Better, And From End To End Of The Universe This Was The First And Last And Only Truth.

Being In Love Was Like China: You Knew It Was There, And No Doubt It Was Very Interesting, And Some People Went There, But I Never Would.

When You Live For Many Hundreds Of Years, You Know That Every Opportunity Will Come Again.