And what is happy? It is a going always on. There is something better to be done than I have done, and spurred by the fair delusion of progress, I will seek to progress, to whip myself on, to more and more- to learning. Always.

I wondered what I thought I was burying.

My flesh winced, in cowardice, from such a death.

The day I went into physics class it was death.

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

They would grow old. They would forget me.

So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them.