Miles away, factory smokestacks rimmed with flame sent up cast billowing clouds of smoke that gave watercolor look to the sky – orange yellow – a pink cast like dawn – beauty to the gray-layered winte...
Language is the instrument in all cases and can language be trusted?If it were not for language, could we lie?
If she lets us down, if she’s weird sometimes—just ignore it, and love her. Just love her.
He thinks: He could give up. He could admit defeat. But he will not admit defeat. He is still alive.
Alone,alone! It is a fact, you hear more acutely and you see and think most acutely,when you are alone.Alone, alone! But there is happiness in alone, if you believe you have chosen it.