No one could be the way I remember my father.

My father liked to moralize, and so do I. But he was in earnest, while I am embarrassed and pretend that I am merely being witty.

Clouds of flavors and savors float around the thing-in-itself.

Reason argues the case, but fact may determine the judgment.

The modest youth somehow knows just what to do for the cameras.

Disillusionment is not truth.

No need to be sentimental to mourn the loss of Paradise.