Soon We Will Be Strangers. No, We

One Would Hope, As Well That Intimacy Would Leave More Of A Mark, That More Of It Would Remain. But It Doesn’t. You Just End Up Thinking, Who Is This Person?

If Jealousy Was The Vindaloo Of Love, I'd Imagined Her Tongue Burning, And Such A Fire Forcing Her To Spill Her Truth.

Watching Jamila Sometimes Made Me Think The World Was Divided Into Three Sorts Of People: Those Who Knew What They Wanted To Do; Those (the Unhappiest) Who Never Knew What Their Purpose In Life Was; And Those Who Found Out Later On. I Was In The Last Category, I Reckoned, Which Didn't Stop Me Wishing I'd Been Born Into The First.

The Vocation Of Each Writer Is To Describe The World As He Or She Sees It; Anything More Than That Is Advertising.

I Am Determined To Live Without Illusions. I Want To Look At Reality Straight. Without Hiding.