If There Were One More Thing I

Love, With Very Young People, Is A Heartless Business. We Drink At That Age From Thirst, Or To Get Drunk; It Is Only Later In Life That We Occupy Ourselves With The Individuality Of Our Wine.

Where A Pack Of Monkeys Had Traveled Over The Road, The Smell Of Them Lingered For A Long Time In The Air, A Dry And Stale, Mousy Smell.

Tragedy Should Remain The Right Of Human Beings, Subject, In Their Conditions Or In Their Own Nature, To The Dire Law Of Necessity. To Them It Is Salvation And Beatification.

I Have Before Seen Other Countries, In The Same Manner, Give Themselves To You When You Are About To Leave Them.

There Is Something Strangely Determinate And Fatal About A Single Shot In The Night. It Is As If Someone Had Cried A Message To You In One Word, And Would Not Repeat It.