There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive.
"Dave" he was called, and he ate and slept, or yawned between times, and took interest in nothing, not even when the Narwhal crossed Queen Charlotte Sound and rolled and pitched and bucked like a thing possessed.
Ama tüm umutlarımı yitirmiş olarak yalnızlığa ya da beni hiç sevmemiş ve hiç sevmeyecek olan kimseler arasında yaşamaya yazgılı olduğum sürece, neşemi nasıl bulur, nasıl iyi olurum?