No one could be the way I remember my father.

Few friendships could survive the moodiness of love affairs.

The Simple Life is not a simple life.

I'm being treated like a sex object, cried the lady. No matter. I will take care of it, said Time soothingly.

Dreams are distorted representations of desire. So are dream- analyses.

I criticize myself ruthlessly, but never mention the faults of which I am truly ashamed.

The lonely become either thoughtful or empty.