It Is A Rather Risky Matter To

I Still Have No Way To Survive But To Keep Writing One Line, One More Line, One More Line.

This Is A Photograph, So It Is As You See: There Are No Lies And No Deceptions. One Can Detect Here, Elevated To An Incomparably Higher Level, The Same Pathetic Emotional Appeal That Lies Concealed In Every Fake Spiritualist Photograph, Every Pornographic Photograph; One Comes To Suspect That The Strange, Disturbing Emotional Appeal Of The Photographic Art Consists Solely In That Same Repeated Refrain: This Is A True Ghost... This Is A Photograph, So It Is As You See: There Are No Lies, No Deceptions.

Let Us Remember That The Central Reality Must Be Sought In The Writer's Work: It Is What The Writer Chose To Write, Or Was Compelled To Write, That Finally Matters. And Certainly Mishima's Carefully Premeditated Death Is Part Of His Work.

Nobody Even Imagines How Well One Can Lie About The State Of One’s Own Heart.

We Are Not Wounded So Deeply When Betrayed By The Things We Hope For As When Betrayed By Things We Try Our Best To Despise. In Such Betrayal Comes The Dagger In The Back.