Slowed down by a sense of hopelessness in all his decisions and movements, he suffered from bitter sadness, and his incapacity solidified into a pain that often sat like a nosebleed behind his forehead the moment he tried to make up his mind to do something.
OLD MANX SAILOR I wonder whether those jolly lads bethink them of what they are dancing over. I’ll dance over your grave, I will- that’s the bitterest threat of your night-women, that beat head-winds round corners. O Christ! to think of the green navies and the green-skulled crews! Well, well; belike the whole world’s a ball, as you scholars have it; and so ‘tis right to make one ballroom of it. Dance on, lads, you’re young; I was once.
Can I borrow your rain coat? When the world is too blue so I put my night-light colored sunglasses on. There's still the half-burned polaroid picture of us under your ashtray, that I look at to remember my face.
OLD MANX SAILOR I wonder whether those jolly lads bethink them of what they are dancing over. I’ll dance over your grave, I will- that’s the bitterest threat of your night-women, that beat head-winds round corners. O Christ! to think of the green navies and the green-skulled crews! Well, well; belike the whole world’s a ball, as you scholars have it; and so ‘tis right to make one ballroom of it. Dance on, lads, you’re young; I was once.