Tired, tired with nothing, tired with everything, tired with the world’s weight he had never chosen to bear.

I want you to take a red-hot bath as hot as you can bear it, and just relax your nerves. You can read in the tub if you wish.

If you are strong enough, there are no precedents.

She saw something awful in the very simplicity she failed to understand.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

he could transform the barest incident into a thing of curve and contour.

But with every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave that up, and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room.