The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.
What do I know of man's destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
What are we doing here, that is the question.
All I want to do is sit on my ass and fart and think of Dante.
Dying for dark — and the darker the Worse. Strange.
Hardly had the glow been kindled by some good deed on your part or by some little triumph over your rivals or by a word of praisefrom your parents or mentors when it would begin to cool and fade leaving you in a very short time as chill and dim as before.