Monday, November 28, 2005

miss.

Missing yourself makes time pass the slowest of all.

Monday, November 21, 2005

miller.

She rises up out of a sea of faces and embraces me, embraces me passionately - a thousand eyes, noses, fingers, legs, bottles, windows, purses, saucers all glaring at us and we in each other's arm oblivious. I sit down beside her and she talks- a flood of talk. Wild consumptive notes of hysteria, perversion, leprosy. I hear not a word because she is beautiful and I love her and now I am happy and willing to die.

- Henry Miller (1891-1980)