There Was No One To Call Me

I Read Like An Animal. I Read Under The Covers, I Read Lying In The Grass, I Read At The Dinner Table. While Other People Were Talking To Me, I Read.

He Spoke Of Human Solitude, About The Intrinsic Loneliness Of A Sophisticated Mind, One That Is Capable Of Reason And Poetry But Which Grasps At Straws When It Comes To Understanding Another, A Mind Aware Of The Impossibility Of Absolute Understanding. The Difficulty Of Having A Mind That Understands That It Will Always Be Misunderstood.

Perhaps That Is What It Means To Be A Father - To Teach Your Child To Live Without You.

In One's Youth, One Has Tremendous Access To One's Feelings. And As One Gets Older, Some Of Those Feelings Kind Of Drift Away. But So Much More Happens To You. There's More At Stake In Life.

He Died Alone Because He Was Too Embarrassed To Phone Anyone.