No Medicine Cures What Happiness Cannot.

Time Was Not Passing...it Was Turning In A Circle.

Both Looked Back Then On The Wild Revelry...and They Lamented That It Had Cost Them So Much Of Their Lives To Find The Paradise Of Shared Solitude.

A Famous Writer Who Wants To Continue Writing Has To Be Constantly Defending Himself Against Fame.

Everyone Has Three Lives: A Public Life, A Private Life, And A Secret Life.

I Discovered That My Obsession For Having Each Thing In The Right Place, Each Subject At The Right Time, Each Word In The Right Style, Was Not The Well-deserved Reward Of An Ordered Mind, But Just The Opposite: A Complete System Of Pretense Invented By Me To Hide The Disorder Of My Nature.