Why Was I Born, If It Wasn't

A Civil Servant Doesn't Make Jokes.

The More I Try To Explain Myself, The Less I Understand Myself.

Childhood Is The World Of Miracle And Wonder; As If Creation Rose, Bathed In The Light, Out Of The Darkness, Utterly New And Fresh And Astonishing. The End Of Childhood Is When Things Cease To Astonish Us.

I Long For Solitude And Yet I Cannot Stand It.

It Is Not The Answer That Enlightens, But The Question.