Rudy only went eleven days, which is nothing, which isn't even enough time to learn what he didn't know. It was all lights and sounds and smells and things brushing against his fingers and feet and things in his mouth. He didn't have so many thoughts but one of them, I am sure, was that he loved you. I know you are thinking of him and I want you to know that he is probably thinking of you, too.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
James Joyce | Ulysses | 1922