Autumn finally arrived. And when it did, I came to a decision. Something had to give: I couldn't keep on living like this.

Not just beautiful, though — the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they’re watching me. What I’ve up till now, what I’m going to do — they know it all. Nothing gets past their watchful eyes. As I sit there under the shining night sky, again a violent fear takes hold of me. My heart’s pounding a mile a minute, and I can barely breathe. All these millions of stars looking down on me, and I’ve never given them more than a passing thought before. Not just the stars — how many other things haven’t I noticed in the world, things I know nothing about?

Everything, everything seemed once-upon-a-time.

I never made any plan before writing, however I succeeded. I enjoyed writing with excitement ,"what happen on the next page?"

If we reverse the outer shell and the essence--in other words, consider the outer shell the essence and the essence only the shell--our lives might be a whole lot easier to understand.

There's a special feeling you get on a veranda that you just can't get anywhere else.

Don't pointless things have a place, too, in this far-from-perfect world?