The Real Choice We Have To Make

I Realized That The Longing For Art, Like The Longing For Love, Is A Malady That Blinds Us, And Makes Us Forget The Things We Already Know, Obscuring Reality.

Age Had Not Made Him Less Handsome, As Is So Often The Case; It Had Simply Made Him Less Visible.

As Much As I Live I Shall Not Imitate Them Or Hate Myself For Being Different To Them

Writing My Own Diary Is The Best Form Of Remembrance, But Only For My Own Use. I Need These Notes; It's Like An Impulse.

What Is The Thing You Want Most From Me? What Can I Do To Make You Love Me?' Be Yourself,' Said Ipek.