I don't know why I told this story. I could just as well have told another. Perhaps some other time I'll be able to tell another. Living souls, you will see how alike they are.
Where you have nothing, there you should want nothing.
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
I had little talent for happiness.
They never lynch children, babies, no matter what they do they are whitewashed in advance.
That penny farthing hell you call your mind