As I Said, This Was My Sarcastic

What I Mean Is, I Love Winter, And When You Really Love Something, Then It Loves You Back, In Whatever Way It Has To Love.

So The More Things Remained The Same, The More They Changed After All. Nothing Endures. Not Love, Not A Tree, Not Even A Death By Violence.

The Summer Of 1943 At Exeter Was As Happy A Time As I Ever Had In My Life.

You Have To Do What You Think Is The Right Thing, But Just Make Sure It’s The Right Thing In The Long Run, And Not Just For The Moment.

As I Said, This Was My Sarcastic Summer. It Was Only Long After That I Recognized Sarcasm As The Protest Of People Who Are Weak.