To make a thought my own, I must think it often.

Secrets die when kept or revealed. They live by being faintly and uncertainly repeated.

I am most drawn to writing when I have something else urgent to do.

I change my opinions often, but not my way of thinking.

Boredom strives to detach, but finds itself stuck.

The theme of my autobiography could only be repetition.

The villain may be good looking, but his smile is never quite right.