Reading Is Probably Another Way Of Being

Just As The Habit Does Not Make The Monk, The Sceptre Does Not Make The King.

Words Are Like That, They Deceive, They Pile Up, It Seems They Do Not Know Where To Go, And, Suddenly, Because Of Two Or Three Or Four That Suddenly Come Out, Simple In Themselves, A Personal Pronoun, An Adverb, An Adjective, We Have The Excitement Of Seeing Them Coming Irresistibly To The Surface Through The Skin And The Eyes And Upsetting The Composure Of Our Feelings, Sometimes The Nerves That Can Not Bear It Any Longer, They Put Up With A Great Deal, They Put Up With Everything, It Was As If They Were Wearing Armor, We Might Say.

I Am The Same Person I Was Before Receiving The Nobel Prize. I Work With The Same Regularity, I Have Not Modified My Habits, I Have The Same Friends.

Even Death, Faced With The Option Of Death Or Life, She Would Choose Life.

That It's Possible Not To See A Lie Even When It's In Front Of Us.