...rapid motion through space elates one.
When a man is born...there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets.
History is that nightmare from which there is no awakening.
What is better than to sit at the end of the day and drink wine with friends, or substitutes for friends?
Interpretations of interpretations interpreted.
Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.