Some eras worship infancy; some, the aged. None as yet has adored middle age.
Whether I give to a beggar or not, his existence puts me in the wrong.
After desolation, grief brings back our humanity.
The psychiatrist's office: the only place I can be sure my story will be treated as sad, but interesting.
Those who follow where their genitals lead them often wind up in tedious company.
The horse stares at its captor, barely remembering the free kicks of youth.