She wondered if, when human souls try to get too near each other, they do not inevitably become mere blurs to each other's vision.

Why, what's the matter wi' the poor child?" she demanded of Jamie. "Has she had an accident o' some sort?"  "No, it's only she's married me," he said, "though if ye care to call it an accident, ye may.

A garden should make you feel you've entered privileged space -- a place not just set apart but reverberant -- and it seems to me that, to achieve this, the gardener must put some kind of twist on the existing landscape, turn its prose into something nearer poetry.

I only follow one party: the Vietnamese party.

Written By Ho Chi Minh

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