But I Smiled, And Smiling Was Easy,

Its A Fact Of Being In Love That We Often Pay No Attention Whatsoever To The Substance Of What A Lover Says, While Being Intoxicated To Ecstasy By The Way It's Said. I Was In Love With Her Eyes, But I Didn't Read Them. I Loved Her Voice, But I Didn't Really Hear The Fear & The Anguish In It.

The Only Victory That Really Counts In Prison Is Survival. But Survival Means More Than Simply Being Alive. It's Not Just The Body That Must Survive A Jail Term; The Spirit And The Will And The Heart Have To Make It Through As Well. If Any One Of Them Is Broken Or Destroyed, The Man Whose Living Body Walks Through The Gate, At The End Of His Sentence, Can't Be Said To Have Survived It. And It's For Those Small Victories Of The Heart, And The Spirit, And The Will That We Sometimes Risk The Body That Cradles Them.

Nothing Grieves More Deeply Or Pathetically Than One Half Of A Great Love That Isn’t Meant To Be.

The Voice, Afghan Matchmakers Say, Is More Than Half Of Love.

The Amount Of Force And Violence Necessary To Board The Train, For Example Was No Less And No More Than The Amoount Of Politeness And Consideration Necessary To Ensure That The Cramped Journey Was As Pleasant As Possible Afterwards. What Is Necessary? That Was The Unspoken But Implied, And Unavoidable Question Everywhere In India.