The letters released something, maybe a sense that he was not alone, that the world was a place where travelers in language could know the same things.

Girls have periods and boys wank. Everybody.

Pleasures, like schoolboys in a school courtyard, had so trampled upon his heart that no green thing grew there, and that which passed through it, more heedless than children, did not even, like them, leave a name carved upon the wall.

I had learned long ago that resolution by itself is not enough; we are what we do, not what we think and feel.

Written By James Lee Burke

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