You run risks. That's the plain truth. You run risks and, even in the most unlikely places, you are subject to destiny's whims.

There is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists.

So everything lets us down, including curiosity and honesty and what we love best. Yes, said the voice, but cheer up, it's fun in the end.

Nothing is ever behind us.

As time goes by, as time goes by, the whip-crack of the years, the precipice of illusions, the ravine that swallows up all human endeavour except the struggle to survive.

The truth is we never stop being children, terrible children covered in sores and knotty veins and tumors and age spots, but ultimately children, in other words we never stop clinging to life because we are life.

We're artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don't we?