What matters in literature in the end is surely the idiosyncratic, the individual, the flavor or the color of a particular human suffering.

But in the end, in the end one is alone. We are all of us alone. I mean I'm told these days we have to consider ourselves as being in society... but in the end one knows one is alone, that one lives at the heart of a solitude.

It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end.

My gymnasts are always the best-prepared in the world. And they win. In the end, that's what matters.

In the finest critics one hears the full cry of the human. They tell one why it matters to read.

Dengue has been killing delicate human lives who have just begun to see the world with their naked eyes. World end has not just started, it has started years ago and now it has reached its destined era. Be ready, you will all have to suffer for what you have done so far !!!