she didn't agree with their solution, so she was said to misunderstand the problem. but hers was not a problem of understanding, - or sympathy - but rather of an excess of both. for her, only individuals had any real meaning, other things being sort of hypothetical. a life can be a welter of confusion, but a heart pure, as was hers. she loved her friends she loved her enemies, and she loved the autumn because of the smell of fallen leaves and wood burning in fireplaces and new spelling books
Yes.
I love character sketches. Dave always wanted to put together a group blog called Profiles where it reblogged and collected posts like these.
I’ve done a bunch of them, I know. They are one of favorite kinds of pieces to write.