The Period That I Could Consider The

...sometimes We Ask Ourselves Why Happiness Took So Long To Arrive, Why It Didn't Come Sooner, But Appears Suddenly, As Now, When We've Given Up Hope Of It Ever Arriving, It's Likely Then That We Won't Know What To Do, And Rather Than It Being A Question Of Choosing Between Laughter And Tears, We Will Be Filled By A Secret Anxiety To Which We Might Not Know How To Respond At All.

The Only Miracle We Can Perform Is To Go On Living, Said The Woman, To Preserve The Fragility Of Life From Day To Day, As If It Were Blind And Did Not Know Where To Go, And Perhaps It Is Like That, Perhaps It Really Does Not Know, It Placed Itself In Our Hands, After Giving Us Intelligence.

Words Have Their Own Hierarchy, Their Own Protocol, Their Own Artistic Titles, Their Own Plebeian Stigmas.

...this Is The Way Fate Usually Treats Us, It's Right There Behind Us, It Has Already Reached Out A Hand To Touch Us On The Shoulder While We're Still Muttering To Ourselves, It's All Over, That's It, Who Cares Anyhow.

The Time For Miracles Has Either Passed Or Not Come Yet, Besides, Miracles, Genuine Miracles, Whatever People Say, Are Not Such A Good Idea, If It Means Destroying The Very Order Of Things In Order To Improve Them.