Pardon me, dear human self, capable of the most heinous degradation, capable of soaring.

I'm sorry to burden you,' she said. She felt like a crybaby. 'What can we do with our stories,' he said, 'but tell them?

Is it not the case that many a life journey starts out in the opposite direction to its destiny?

Is beauty enhanced or adulterated by utility?

That's the way it is in life. You let go of what is beautiful and unique. You pursue something new and don't even know that the wind of your own running is a thief.

If you meet a woman of whatever complexion who sails her life with strength and grace and assurance, talk to her! And what you will find is that there has been a suffering, that at some time she has left herself for hanging dead.

Pardon me, dear human self, capable of the most heinous degradation, capable of soaring.