Today. This Bright New Day That Awaits

He Has Found Himself More And More Reliant On Her At Exactly The Point That She Has Become Less Available To Him.

He Wanted To Live Life In Such A Way That If A Photograph Were Taken At Random, It Would Be A Cool Photograph.

A Joke Was Not A Single-use Item But Something You Brought Out Again And Again Until It Fell Apart In Your Hand Like A Cheap Umbrella.

Being A Decent Human Being Will Require Effort And Energy.

The Sad Fact Is That I Love Dickens And Donne And Keats And Eliot And Forster And Conrad And Fitzgerald And Kafka And Wilde And Orwell And Waugh And Marvell And Greene And Sterne And Shakespeare And Webster And Swift And Yeats And Joyce And Hardy, Really, Really Love Them. It’s Just That They Don’t Love Me Back.