someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face
and it was dry.
Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the
rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and
fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.
- Ray Bradbury, Green Shadows, White Whale: A Novel of Ray Bradbury's
Adventures Making Moby Dick with John Huston in Ireland
By Chris Buzelli |
No comments:
Post a Comment