I thought of the future, and spoke of the past.
Clocks indeed must have their sacrifice: what is death but an offering to time and eternity?
Here is a hall without exit, a tunnel without end.
Love is a chain of love as nature is a chain of life.
Finishing a book is just like you took a child out in the back yard and shot it.
I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffanyยดs.