My whole being from head to heels is bursting with a strange, incomprehensible feeling. I can't analyse it just now—I haven't the time, I'm too lazy, and there—hang analysis! Why, is a man likely to interpret his sensations when he is flying head foremost from a belfry, or has just learned that he has won two hundred thousand? Is he in a state to do it? This was more or less how I began my love-letter to Sasha, a girl of nineteen with whom I had fallen in love.
© 2015 Interactive Media (Rafbók): 9781910833186
Útgáfudagur
Rafbók: 15 maj 2015
My whole being from head to heels is bursting with a strange, incomprehensible feeling. I can't analyse it just now—I haven't the time, I'm too lazy, and there—hang analysis! Why, is a man likely to interpret his sensations when he is flying head foremost from a belfry, or has just learned that he has won two hundred thousand? Is he in a state to do it? This was more or less how I began my love-letter to Sasha, a girl of nineteen with whom I had fallen in love.
© 2015 Interactive Media (Rafbók): 9781910833186
Útgáfudagur
Rafbók: 15 maj 2015
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