I was trying to unravel the complicated trigonometry of the radical thought that silence could make up the greatest lie ever told.
There are no verdicts to childhood, only consequences, and the bright freight of memory.
A story untold could be the one that kills you.
He was one of those rare men who are capable of being fully in love only once in their lives.
Except for memory, time would have no meaning at all.
The world of literature has everything in it, and it refuses to leave