The Real Choice We Have To Make

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

Ka Found It Very Soothing: For The First Time In Years, He Felt Part Of A Family. In Spite Of The Trials And Responsibilities Of What Was Called 'family', He Saw Now The Joys Of Its Unyielding Togetherness, And Was Sorry Not To Have Known More Of It In His Life.

The First Thing I Learned At School Was That Some People Are Idiots; The Second Thing I Learned Was That Some Are Even Worse.

How Much Can We Ever Know About The Love And Pain In Another's Heart? How Much Can We Hope To Understand Those Who Have Suffered Deeper Anguish, Greater Deprivation, And More Crushing Disappointments Than We Ourselves Have Known? Even If The World's Rich And Powerful Were To Put Themselves In The Shoes Of The Rest, How Much Would They Really Understand The Wretched Millions Suffering Around Them? So It Is When Orhan The Novelist Peers Into The Dark Corners Of His Poet Friend's Difficult And Painful Life: How Much Can He Really See?

I Think A Lot About The Poems I Wasn't Able To Write...i Masturbrated...solitude Is Essentially A Matter Of Pride; You Bury Yourself In Your Own Scent. The Issue Is The Same For All Real Poets. If You've Been Happy For Too Long, You Become Banal. By The Same Token, If You've Been Unhappy For A Long Time, You Lose Your Poetic Power...happiness And Poverty Can Only Coexist For The Briefest Time. Afterword Either Happiness Coarsens The Poet Or The Poem Is So True It Destroys His Happiness.