There are only two things in life,’ Bergé said. ‘Love and beauty.
O’ melancholy,hectic chill for human soul,herewith dismal presence,any spirit does descent.
He was getting undressed and it snapped something inside of him that had been drawing taut, ready to break for months.
“I’m hungry, Bruno,
I don’t know how these things died without benefit of a bullet to the brain pan. They seemed to exist in an eternal twilight of longing.
Someone once told me that we move when it becomes less painful than staying where we are”.
You Don’t Have To Be A Crook To Be Successful!
Writing a novel is agony.
They all dreamt of each other that night, as was natural, considering how thin the partitions were between them, and how strangely they had been lifted off the earth to sit next each other in mid-ocean, and see every detail of each others’ faces, and hear whatever they chanced to say.
The sound of him drinking was indescribable-like dirty runoff down a storm drain.
Semua orang paham jika masing-masing membutuhkan rumah untuk pulang. Kita semua butuh rehat. Kita butuh berlindung dari dinginnya malam dan teriknya matahari. Bukan dengan penghangat ruangan maupun dinginnya AC. Tapi kita mencarinya dengan kehangatan dan kesejukan keluarga. Sebuah keintiman yang menjauhkan kita dari keterasingan.