A lonely man is a lone some thing, a stone, a bone, a stick,a receptacle for Gilbey's gin, astooped figure sitting at the edge of a hotel bed, heaving copious sighs like the autumnwind. — John Cheever Copy Share Image
Tomorrow you may bring about the destruction of your world. Tomorrow you may sing in Paradise above the smoking ruins of your world-cities. But tonight I would like to think of one man, a lone individual, a man without name… — Henry Miller Copy Share Image
