It's Strange. You Never Start

This Is Awful. I Don't Know What's Going To Happen To Me Or To Anyone Else In The World.

There Was This Funny Thing Of Anything Could Happen Now That We Realized Everything Had.

There Isn't Enough Of Anything As Long As We Live. But At Intervals A Sweetness Appears And, Given A Chance Prevails.

But He Stays By The Window, Remembering That Life. They Had Laughed. They Had Leaned On Each Other And Laughed Until The Tears Had Come, While Everything Else—the Cold And Where He'd Go In It—was Outside, For A While Anyway.

A Little Autobiography And A Lot Of Imagination Are Best.