It's not always easy to tell the difference between thinking and looking out of the window.
Style is not something applied. It is something that permeates.
Accuracy of observation is the equivalent of accuracy of thinking.
It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.
A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On terms Like these, autumn beguiles the fatalist.
Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.