"She rises up out of a sea of faces and embraces me, embraces me passionately—- a thousand eyes, noses, fingers, legs, bottles, windows, purses, saucers all glaring at us an we in each other’s arm oblivious. I sit down beside her and she talks—- a flood of talk. Wild consumptive notes of hysteria, perversion, leprosy. I hear not a word because she is beautiful and I love her and now I am happy and willing to die." ▼
Henry Miller,
Tropic of Cancer (via
clavicola)
(via theotherway)
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