Books, I found, had the power to make time stand still, retreat or fly into the future.

At 19, everything is possible and tomorrow looks friendly.

Autumn carries more gold in its pocket than all the other seasons.

Gimme: an agreement between two losers who can't putt.

The future is an opaque mirror. Anyone who tries to look into it sees nothing but the dim outlines of an old and worried face.

Nothing is as far away as one minute ago.