"... a loveless world is a dead world, and always there comes an hour when one is weary of prisons, of one's work, and of devotion to duty, and all one craves for is a loved face, the warmth and wonder of a loving heart."
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Because, as Albert Camus writes in The Plague;
Labels:
barely there beard,
Fiction,
life in general,
sweet Swede