- 2nd
- 08:13 pm
'Peaked clouds,' said Rhoda, 'voyage over a sky dark like polished whalebone.'
- 4th
- 02:32 pm
At present everything seems unreal to me ; A distant summer . . .
- 10th
- 12:59 pm
'There is the puddle,' said Rhoda, 'and I cannot cross it.
- 11th
- 10:58 am
She speaks; her voice wakes me. I shoot to the bottom among the weeds and see envy, jealousy, hatred
- 12th
- 02:25 pm
I am alone in a hostile world. The human face is hideous.
- 14th
- 03:37 pm
I like the passing of face and face and face, deformed, indifferent.
- 16th
- 08:23 am
Here are hate, jealousy, hurry, and indifference frothed into the wild semblance of life.
- 19th
- 05:52 pm
All palpable forms of life have failed me.
- 21st
- 09:36 pm
I have lost my indifference, my blank eyes, my pear-shaped eyes that saw to the root.
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