We All Have The Same Dreams.

Only The Dying Man Can Tell How Much Time He Has Left.

I Write Entirely To Find Out What I'm Thinking, What I'm Looking At, What I See And What It Means. What I Want And What I Fear.

In The Absence Of A Natural Disaster We Are Left Again To Our Own Uneasy Devices.

I Just Read Everything I Could Get My Hands On. I Taught Myself To Read Or My Mother Taught Me. Who Knows How I Learned To Read? It Was Before I Went To School, So I Would Go To The Library And Just Take Things Off The Shelf. My Mother Had To Sign A Piece Of Paper Saying I Could Take Adult Books.

Everything Goes. I Am Working Very Hard At Not Thinking About How Everything Goes.