think of nothing things think of wind

I loved her enough to forget myself, my self pitying despairs, and be content that something she thought happy was going to happen.

Oh Jesus God we did belong to each other. He was mine.

Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.

But he does look stupid.' Yearning. Not stupid. He wants awfully to be on the inside staring out: anybody with their nose pressed against a glass is liable to look stupid.

Oh, I adore to cook. It makes me feel so mindless in a worthwhile way.

The true beloveds of this world are in their lover's eyes lilacs opening, ship lights, school bells, a landscape, remembered conversations, friends, a child's Sunday, lost voices, one's favorite suit, autumn and all seasons, memory, yes, it being the earth and water of existence, memory.