I have sought happiness through many ages and not found it.
My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness.
It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.
Now, aged 50, I'm just poised to shoot forth quite free straight and undeflected my bolts whatever they are.
Still, life had a way of adding day to day
She had the perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very, dangerous to live even one day.