The act of memory is an act of ghostwriting.

Why ask a question whose answer would demand ten more questions?

Assured her I've never loved anyone except myself and have no intention of starting now.

. . .my dreams are the single unpredictable factor in my zoned days and nights. Nobody allots them, or censors them. Dreams are all I have ever truly owned.

Dreams are shores where the ocean of spirit meets the land of matter. Dreams are beaches where the yet-to-be, the once-were, the will-never-be may walk awhile with the still-are.

What is any ocean but a multitude of drops?

A book you finish reading is not the same book it was before you read it.