I feel as if the world is listening for my next thought. But I can't think of anything. Sorry, but I just can't think of anything.
Looking up at [the sky], I think about the October evening world, where 'people' must be going about their lives. Beneath that pale autumn light, they must be walking down streets, going to the store for things, preparing dinner, boarding trains for ...
I guess time doesn't flow in order, does it - A, B, C, D? It just sort of goes where it feels like going.
The passage of time will usually extract the venom of most things and render them harmless
I'd always thought that the earth on which I stood was a solid object that would last forever. Or rather, I'd never thought about such a thing at all. I'd simply taken it for granted.
I was dying to have a cat. But they wouldn't let me. My mother hated them. Not once in my life have I managed to get something I really wanted. Not once. Can you believe it? You can't understand what it's like to live like that. When you get used to ...
I know exactly what I'm doing, but I just can't stop. That's my greatest weakness.
We were young, and we had no need for prophecies. Just living was itself an act of prophecy.
