Writers Speak Stench.

There Sat I, A Faded Being, Under Faded Leaves.

It Receives You When You Come And Dismisses You When You Go.

Anyone Who Cannot Come To Terms With His Life While He Is Alive Needs One Hand To Ward Off A Little His Despair Over His Fate... But With His Other Hand He Can Note Down What He Sees Among The Ruins.

Marrying, Founding A Family, Accepting All The Children That Come, Supporting Them In This Insecure World, And Perhaps Even Guiding Them A Little, Is, I Am Convinced, The Utmost A Human Being Can Succeed In Doing At All.

I Have Spent My Life Resisting The Desire To End It.