We Play the broken string of our instruments one last time
At the end, we brought her to New York, where I was living, for a series of experimental tortures that increased the misery of her days without increasing the number of them.
You live for pretentious metaphors.
Nothing has ever looked like that ever in all of human history.
Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than about the stories and people we're quoting.
Imagine others complexly.