A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness— Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Home is not where you are born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease.
We always use poetic language to describe our embarrassment in the cracks of youth.
"La literatura es una forma de resistencia contra el olvido."