On the Internet, everyone is writing. There is a great flowering of writing.

ONE OF THE LAST GREAT REALIZATIONS is that life will not be what you dreamed.

One should not believe too strongly in a life which can easily vanish.

The myriad past, it enters us and disappears. Except that within it, somewhere, like diamonds, exist the fragments that refuse to be consumed. Sifting through, if one dares, and collecting them, one discovers the true design.

Dresscodes are for styleless people.

Not necessarily narrow so much as impatient, intense.

The summer has ended. The garden withers. The mornings become chill. I am thirty, I am thirty-four -the years turn dry as leaves.