It's Not Surprising To See In My

Here Was A Torture That Greek Inventors Of The Feast And The Stone Had Omitted From Their Hades: The Blanket Of Self-deception. A Lovely Warm Blanket As Far As It Covered The Soul In Torment, But It Never Quite Covered Everything.

The More You Pursue Distractions, The Less Effective Any Particular Distraction Is, And So I'd Had To Up Various Dosages, Until, Before I Knew It, I Was Checking My E-mail Every Ten Minutes, And My Plugs Of Tobacco Were Getting Ever Larger, And My Two Drinks A Night Had Worsened To Four, And I'd Achieved Such Deep Mastery Of Computer Solitaire That My Goal Was No Longer To Win A Game But To Win Two Or More Games In A Row--a Kind Of Meta-solitaire Whose Fascination Consisted Not In Playing The Cards But In Surfing The Streaks Of Wins And Losses.

It Was A Way Of Recognizing Places Of Enchantment: People Falling Asleep Like This.

...she Felt That Nothing Could Kill Her Hope Now, Nothing. She Was Seventy-five And She Was Going To Make Some Changes In Her Life.

I Voluntarily Inflicted A Certain Level Of Insanity On Myself.