There are only two kinds of pain: too much love or too little.
The life of the city cat is short but so sophisticated.
History repeats herself.
Growing old is not a thing to watch. It cannot be forgiven in others. Alone, it can be borne. Even indulged.
When I went to school, they told me literature was a rope I must use to climb out of the dark well of unknowing. Writers are the knots on the rope.
All media can muddy the mind. Language leads to literature. It also leads to dogma.