My mother's mild-eyed sadness looks at me from the eyes of those I love.
Bad faith likes discourse on friendship and loyalty.
Every life has a love story, even though the beloved may be imaginary, or a cat.
In New York, pretending to be above the struggle means no seat on the bus and a table next to the kitchen.
Consciousness is our only reprieve from Time.
Clothes make the body both mysterious and historical.