John Keats / John Keats / John / Please put your scarf on.
I feel overwhelmingly grateful to them, but I don't know what to do with their invisible gifts.
Zooey said... It would be very nice to come home and be in the wrong house. To eat dinner with the wrong people by mistake, sleep in the wrong bed by mistake, and kiss everybody good-bye in the morning thinking they were your own family.
We don't talk, we hold forth. We don't converse, we expound.
She was not one for emptying her face of expression.
The existence of God, the why of life, was all that really only a question of glands?