Hopeless thing, sand. Nothing grows in it. All fades.
— James Joyce, Ulysses
Mythology of Blue
I walk in order to see. This is my heimat,
my deep map.
See also:
bricoleur,
librarian
-
2011-03-17
I walk in order to see. This is my heimat,
my deep map.
See also:
bricoleur,
librarian
Hopeless thing, sand. Nothing grows in it. All fades.
— James Joyce, Ulysses
