There Is Always One Moment In Childhood

What Happens If You Drop All The Things That Make You I?

He Couldn't Tell That This Was One Of Those Occasions A Man Never Forgets: A Small Cicatrice Had Been Made On The Memory, A Wound That Would Ache Whenever Certain Things Combined - The Taste Of Gin At Mid-day, The Smell Of Flowers Under A Balcony, The Clang Of Corrugated Iron, An Ugly Bird Flopping From Perch To Perch.

I Could Never Have Been A Pacifist. To Kill A Man Was Surely To Grant Him An Immeasurable Benefit. Oh Yes, People Always, Everywhere, Loved Their Enemies. It Was Their Friends They Preserved For Pain And Vacuity.

As Long As Nothing Happens Anything Is Possible.

It Was As Though Our Love Were A Small Creature Caught In A Trap And Bleeding To Death: I Had To Shut My Eyes And Wring Its Neck.