Nothing Is Boring Exept To People Who

He Was A Fugitive, Lurking Soul, James Leer. He Didn't Belong Anywhere, But Things Went Much Better For Him In Places Where Nobody Belonged.

I’d Spent My Whole Life Waiting To Awake On An Ordinary Morning In The Town That Was Destined To Be My Home, In The Arms Of The Woman I Was Destined To Love, Knowing The People And Doing The Work That Would Make Up The Changing But Essentially Invariable Landscape Of My Particular Destiny.

I Smoked And Looked Down At The Bottom Of Pittsburgh For A Little While, Watching The Kids Playing Tiny Baseball, The Distant Figures Of Dogs Snatching At A Little Passing Car, A Miniature Housewife On Her Back Porch Shaking Out A Snippet Of Red Rug, And I Made A Sudden, Frightened Vow Never To Become That Small, And To Devote Myself To Getting Bigger And Bigger And Bigger.

... But He Believed That Every Great Love Was In Some Measure A Terrible Mistake.

It Was Nice Standing Out In The Darkness, In The Damp Grass, With Spring Coming On And A Feeling In My Heart Of Imminent Disaster.