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And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. She attempted by a sheer act of will to end the scene, to will herself out of it anywhere. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. Jests are not for seasons like this.

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This video was uploaded to gohardasht1.com on 30-05-2024 23:41:01

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