oleographs

‘Peut-on avoir l’honneur?’

‘Dear Thomas,’ he wrote, ‘I can’t begin to tell you how swell you were the other

‘je suis un Anglais, pauvre, très pauvre.’

‘It’s always the same wherever one goes—it’s not the most powerful rulers who have the happiest populations.’

‘Il est mort,

‘I like it here. At home there are—problems.’ ‘Merde,’

With no guarantee of the amount of time you have left it doesn’t seem worth starting even a train of thought.

accepting the fact that no human being will ever understand another, not a wife a husband, a lover a mistress, nor a parent a child? Perhaps that’s why men have invented God—a being capable of understanding. Perhaps