Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses.

I grew, a happy, healthy child in a bright world of illustrated books, clean sand, orange trees, friendly dogs, sea vistas and smiling faces.

I shall continue to exist. I may assume other disguises, other forms, but I shall try to exist.

By God, I could make myself bring her that economically halved grapefruit, that sugarless breakfast.

Only ambitious nonentities and hearty mediocrities exhibit their rough drafts. It's like passing around samples of sputum.

A cluster of stars palely glowed above us, between the silhouettes of long thin leaves; that vibrant sky seemed as naked as she was under her light frock. I saw her face in the sky, strangely distinct, as if it emitted a faint radiance of its own.

For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me.