It was cold autumn weather, but in spite of the cold they wandered up and down the roads of the Park for nearly three hours. They agreed to break off their intercourse; every bond, he said, is a bond to sorrow.
A woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out.
All fiction is autobiographical fantasy.
Shut your eyes and see.
The mouth can be better engaged than with a cylinder of rank weed.
Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand.