Bokelskere.no

Honestly now, openly and directly as befits old friends meeting with difficulty, what do we feel on meeting? Sorrow. The door will not open; he will not come. And we are laden.

"Like" and "like" and "like -- but what is the thing that lies beneath the semblance of the thing?

How signal to all time to come that we, who stand in the street, in the lamplight, loved Percival? Now Percival is gone.