Please Tell Me What Can I Do.

I Have A Rotten Habit Of Picturing The Bedroom Scenes Of My Friends.

The Circus Is The Only Fun You Can Buy That Is Good For You.

The Things Of The Night Cannot Be Explained In The Day, Because They Do Not Then Exist.

There Is Never Any Ending To Paris And The Memory Of Each Person Who Has Lived In It Differs From That Of Any Other. We Always Returned To It No Matter Who We Were Or How It Was Changed Or With What Difficulties, Or Ease, It Could Be Reached. Paris Was Always Worth It And You Received Return For Whatever You Brought To It. But This Is How Paris Was In The Early Days When We Were Very Poor And Very Happy.

I've Been Wondering About Dostoyevsky. How Can A Man Write So Badly, So Unbelievably Badly, And Make You Feel So Deeply?