bolhom
utorak, 08.06.2010.
Someone went upside my head again.
I felt the doors open near me, and then saw a confusion of booted feet moving close by.
We owe something to extravagance, for thrift and adventure seldom go hand in hand.
Someone dragged me by my arms out onto the road, then shoved me, stumbling, down a paved road.
Never be a cynic, even a gentle one. Never help out a sneer, even at the devil.
The only difference between a rut and a grave... is in their dimensions.
Reality is nothing but a collective hunch.
Books...are like lobster shells, we surround ourselves with 'em, then we grow out of 'em and leave 'em behind, as evidence of our earlier stages of development.
