It doesn’t matter how old I get, but as long as I continue to live I’ll always discover something new about myself.

Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that's how we've got to live.

What we needed were not words and promises but a steady accumulation of small realities.

In the end, like so many beautiful promises in our lives, that dinner date never came to be.

Being alive, if you had to define it, meant emitting a variety of smells.

Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.

Is it against the law for me to know it?