A corpse is meat gone bad. Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk.
Fall if you will, but rise you must.
Interpretations of interpretations interpreted.
Your mind will give back to you exactly what you put into it.
He found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible.
And if he had judged her harshly? If her life were a simple rosary of hours, her life simple and strange as a bird's life, gay in the morning, restless all day, tired at sundown? Her heart simple and willful as a bird's heart?