If they give you ruled paper, write the other way.

Love, you are eternal like springtime.

It's hard to be nostalgic when you can't remember anything.

Sharp nostalgia, infinite and terrible, for what I already possess.

I have a feeling that my boat has struck, down there in the depths, against a great thing. And nothing happens! Nothing ... Silence ... Waves. Nothing happens? Or Has everything Happened and we are standing now, quietly, in the new life?

If they give you ruled paper, write the other way.