Status Updates From The Harsh Voice

God, what a life this is ... full of presciences that don't do us any good, full of self-consciousness that tortures us by telling us just what sort of hole we're in but never how to get out of it. It's noting to cling to, really.

Her expression made me see as by a flash of lightning a life inconceivably monotonous, spent in servitude, in duties faithfully performed and requited, by not one romantic generosity on the part of fate.

It would be impossible for him to tell Josie about it next time they met, for the reason that he would not be able to find the proper words ... That's what's wrong with us! ... We can't talk. Nobody but writers know how to put things into words, and everybody goes around stuffed up with things they want to say and can't. It seemed to him that he had put his fingers on the secret of all human sorrow.

...and in this delicious occupation he had joined him for an hour, listening to a long story about how a horse once went to heaven. It was the picture-book South, and recollecting it he had the same joy that comes to those that fall in love, of finding that a reality can keep its freshness though all its expressions are infinitely trite.