When reason sleeps, the monsters of repression will emerge.

Life could be cruel enough these days without the truth making it worse.

If you don't stop apologizing, you're going to convince me you've done something wrong.

For it is said, you know, that a letter will always seek a reader; that sooner or later, like it or not, words have a way of finding the light, of making their secrets known.

It is a cruel, ironical art, photography. The dragging of captured moments into the future; moments that should have been allowed to be evaporate into the past; should exist only in memories, glimpsed through the fog of events that came after. Photographs force us to see people before their future weighed them down.

But history is a faithless teller whose cruel recourse to hindsight makes fools of its actors.

A girl expecting rescue never learns to save herself. Even with the means, she will find her courage wanting.