Each Couple Is Its Own

English, As A Subject, Never Really Got Over Its Upstart Nature. It Tries To Bulk Itself Up With Hopeless Jargon And Specious Complexity, Tries To Imitate Subjects It Can Never Be.

He Did Not Consider If Or How Or Why He Loved Them. They Were Just Love: They Were The First Evidence He Ever Had Of Love, And They Would Be The Last Confirmation Of Love When Everything Else Fell Away.

It Wasn't Like The Spare Rooms Of Immigrants - Packed To The Rafters With All That They Have Ever Possessed, No Matter How Defective Or Damaged, Mountains Of Odds And Ends - The Stand Testament To The Fact That They Have Things Now, Where Before They Had Nothing.

Those Beliefs About The Essential Goodness Or Beauty Of The World Are Fundamentally Paper-thin Bullshit. There's Not An Essential Belief That Isn't A Contingent Belief. It Could All Be Destroyed In A Second, At Any Second. And I Have An Issue With That.

You Say You Want To Talk, But You Don't . You Stonewall Me.