The Worst Part Of Great Poverty Is

But Nobody Ever Forgot Anything, Not Really, Though Sometimes They Pretended, When It Suited Them. Memories Were Permanent. Sorrowful Ones Remained Sad Even With The Passing Of Time, Yet Happy Ones Could Never Be Recreated - Not With The Same Joy. Remembering Bred Its Own Peculiar Sorrow. It Seemed So Unfair: That Time Should Render Both Sadness And Happiness Into A Source Of Pain.

Children Don't Make Judgments About Which Details Are Important... A Child Captures Them All.

There Didn't Seem To Her Any Harm In It, And The Make-believe Was So Comforting.

In The Broad Sense, As A Processing Of Everything One Hears Or Witnesses, All Fiction Is Autobiographical - Imagination Ground Through The Mill Of Memory. It's Impossible To Separate The Two Ingredients.

Black Money Is So Much A Part Of Our White Economy, A Tumour In The Centre Of The Brain - Try To Remove It And You Kill The Patient.