Anyone Can Express Himself Or Herself, But

And What Did You Want? To Call Myself Beloved, To Feel Myself Beloved On The Earth.

But He Stays By The Window, Remembering That Life. They Had Laughed. They Had Leaned On Each Other And Laughed Until The Tears Had Come, While Everything Else—the Cold And Where He'd Go In It—was Outside, For A While Anyway.

Isak Dinesen Said That She Wrote A Little Every Day, Without Hope And Without Despair. I Like That.

You've Got To Work With Your Mistakes Until They Look Intended. Understand?

She Won't Give Him Back His Look.