It Was The Time Of Year, The Time Of Day, For A Small Insistent Sadness To Pass Into The Texture Of Things. Dusk, Silence, Iron Chill. Something Lonely In The Bone.

-Don DeLillo

Please Wait....
Translating....

It Was The Time Of Year, The

Don DeLillo

It Was The Time Of Year, The Time Of Day, For A Small Insistent Sadness To Pass Into The Texture Of Things. Dusk, Silence, Iron Chill. Something Lonely In The Bone.

Topic

Lonely

Sadness

Years

More From Don DeLillo

...because What's The Meaning Of Doing Dishes If You're Not Driven By Something Beyond Necessity.

Driven

Dishes

Ifs