Love Cannot Be Measured By Its Duration.

Our Lives Can Only Be Lived Forward And Understood Backwards. Living A Life And Understanding It Occupy Different Dimensions.

At The Deepest Level People Are Madder Than They Want To Believe. You Will Find That They Fear Being Eaten, And Are Alarmed By Their Desire To Devour Others.

Without Love, Most Of Life Remains Concealed. Nothing Is As Fascinating As Love, Unfortunately.

If You Get Depressed, You Can Be Stuck For Months; If You Have An Analyst, You At Least Have A Chance Of Getting Out Of It Faster.

If You Never Left Anything Or Anyone There Would Be No Room For The New. Naturally, To Move On Is An Infidelity -- To Others, To The Past, To Old Notions Of Oneself. Perhaps Every Day Should Contain At Least One Essential Infidelity Or Necessary Betrayal. It Would Be An Optimistic, Hopeful Act, Guaranteeing Belief In The Future -- A Declaration That Things Can Be Not Only Different But Better.