Calypso.sea.one

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
― Ernest Hemingway

“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

“So what can I do now?" she spoke up a minute later.
"Nothing," I said. "Just think about what comes before words. You owe that to the dead. As time goes on, you'll understand. What lasts, lasts; what doesn't, doesn't. Time solves most things. And what time can't solve, you have to solve yourself. Is that too much to ask?"
"A little," she said, trying to smile.
"Well, of course it is," I said, trying to smile too.
"I doubt that this makes sense to most people. But I think I'm right. People die all the time. Life is a lot more fragile than we think. So you should treat others in a way that leaves no regrets. Fairly, and if posible, sincerely. It's too easy not to make the effort, then weep and wring your hands after the person dies. Personally, I don't buy it."
Yuki leaned against the car door. "But that's real hard, isn't it?" she said.
"Real hard," I said. "But it's worth trying for.”
― Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance