Fiction Is The Lie Through Which We

The Opposite Of An Idealist Is Too Often A Man Without Love.

No Cause Justifies The Deaths Of Innocent People.

Although It Was The Middle Of Winter, I Finally Realized That, Within Me, Summer Was Inextinguishable.

I Would Like To Be Able To Breathe— To Be Able To Love Her By Memory Or Fidelity. But My Heart Aches. I Love You Continuously, Intensely.

My Chief Occupation, Despite Appearances, Has Always Been Love.