The Ghost in You

How strange — I feel cold, almost as if I were alive. “That, my friend, is the ghost in you.” Songs and Letters, September 30, 2008 [ 828 ]
How strange — I feel cold, almost as if I were alive. “That, my friend, is the ghost in you.” Songs and Letters, September 30, 2008 [ 828 ]
Light is relentless. Darkness is sin. But which is which, my friend? Where does one end and the other begin? Sorrow is beauty. Humor is sad. But in the beginning, that wasn’t my plan. And Job said, Begin again. [ 815 ]
For a good long stretch, I had been chipping away at Leopardi’s Zibaldone, a few lines here, a paragraph there, careful not to wrinkle the bible-thin pages. Since it is made to lie flat, I had been keeping the book open here on my mother’s desk. But the time came recently that I needed the space to accommodate more books: a complete six-volume set of Imaginary Conversations by Walter Savage […]