Or is this how humans survive, shrugging off history, immersing themselves in the moment?
...don't create snakes out of ropes. You have enough to worry about.
I liked his voice, rich and unself-conscious even when he forgot words and hummed to fill in the gap. What I didn't understand, I imagined, and thus it became a love song.
I guess there's a lot we hope for that never happens.
Each day has a color, a smell.
Because ultimately only the witness -- and not the actors -- knows the truth (Vyasa to Draupadi)