I Know What "nothing" Means, And Keep

I Myself Love To Read Those Victorian Novels Which Go On And On, And You Don't Read Them In One Sitting. You Might Read One Over The Course Of A Summer, But That Isn't What I Want To Write.

Late Afternoon On The West Coast Ends With The Sky Doing All Its Brilliant Stuff.

To Cure Jealousy Is To See It For What It Is, A Dissatisfaction With Self.

New York Was No Mere City. It Was Instead An Infinitely Romantic Notion.

Grief, When It Comes, Is Nothing We Expect It To Be. Grief Has No Distance. Grief Comes In Waves, Paroxysms, Sudden Apprehensions That Weaken The Knees And Blind The Eyes And Obliterate The Dailiness Of Life.