It Does Not Matter Much Whom We

The World Is Little, People Are Little, Human Life Is Little. There Is Only One Big Thing — Desire.

Every Fine Story Must Leave In The Mind Of The Sensitive Reader An Intangible Residuum Of Pleasure, A Cadence, A Quality Of Voice That Is Exclusively The Writer's Own, Individual, Unique.

Merely Having Seen The Season Change In A Country Gave One The Sense Of Having Been There For A Long Time.

I Wondered If The Life That Was Right For One Was Ever Right For Two!

There Is Often A Good Deal Of The Child Left In People Who Have Had To Grow Up Too Soon.