Details are the Life of Prose.
Somewhere along the line, the pearl would be handed to me.
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved.
Something great is about to happen to me: I'm about to love somebody very much.
Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love or some sort of girl by a fireside, why not go to your desire and LAUGH.
Genius gives birth, talent delivers. What Rembrandt or Van Gogh saw in the night can never be seen again. Born writers of the future are amazed already at what they're seeing now, what we'll all see in time for the first time, and then see imitated many times by made writers.