The bicycle riders drank much wine, and were burned and browned by the sun. They did not take the race seriously except among themselves.
He rested sitting on the un-stepped mast and sail and tried not to think but only to endure.
I am so in love with you that there isn’t anything else.
But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there.
And who understands? Not me, because if I did I would forgive it all.
All my life I've looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.