We Remember The Details Of Our Story,

...every Monologue Sooner Or Later Becomes A Discussion.

You Cannot Love Without Intuition.

What Have We All Got To Expect That We Allow Ourselves To Be So Lined With Disappointment?

She Had Lost All Our Memories For Ever, And It Was As Though By Dying She Had Robbed Me Of Part Of Myself. I Was Losing My Individuality. It Was The First Stage Of My Own Death, The Memories Dropping Off Like Gangrened Limbs.

Childhood Was The Germ Of All Mistrust. You Were Cruelly Joked Upon And Then You Cruelly Joked. You Lost The Remembrance Of Pain Through Inflicting It.