Why is it that one can look at a lion or a planet or an owl or at someone's finger as long as one pleases, but looking into the eyes of another person is, if prolonged past a second, a perilous affair?
Walker Percy, author (1916-1990)
Strewn about the vase the petals a vestige of a gone beauty randomly, perhaps Gathering the withered soft and dead dryness the mind but wa...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question