... Old Clothes, Old Friends, Old Books.

When We Live With A Memory We Live With A Corpse; The Impact Of The Experience Has Changed Us Once But Can Never Change Us Again.

Sometimes I Think We're All Tightrope Walkers Suspended On A Wire Two Thousand Feet In The Air, And So Long As We Never Look Down We're Okay, But Some Of Us Lose Momentum And Look Down For A Second And Are Never Quite The Same Again: We Know.

Both Therapy And Friendship Possessed The Common Denominator Of Discovering A Self.

If Something Anticipated Arrives Too Late It Finds Us Numb, Wrung Out From Waiting, And We Feel - Nothing At All. The Best Things Arrive On Time.

... Old Clothes, Old Friends, Old Books. One Needs Constants In A Traveling Life.