You are on my side," she says. "What side is that?" I ask. "The winning side," she says, and smiles. "The team of the artists." "Who are we playing?" "The barbarians," she says. "We are always playing them.
It is hard to be true to yourself because it is hard to be yourself.
Even English-teacher bookworms need friends and bars.
You have to stop and freeze the moment," he told me I had told her. "You have to make yourself remember by repeating it in your head over and over. You have to write to preserve your sanity.
Until it has scared you with its endlessness, sky is just sky.
