And another thing. We never finish a conversation, do we? It seems like if it was worth saying in the first place, then when we ruminate at all on it, there is always more to be said. It might be that anything is worth saying, and sometimes we meet people that we can talk to so easily, as though we are talking to ourselves. And no conversation ever ends.

Now, as this is my third time blogging, since I created my account which means my fourth time logged in here, I'll edit this post by commenting on the fact that some books keep you in thrall, and are difficult to put down, but after you do, you can't really remember what it was about. Maybe I'm not articulate enough, but right now The Sun Also Rises is giving me a strong feeling, keeping me mentally stimulated entirely, but I can't really reiterate the plot, or maybe I mean that I could say what happened in the plot, but that isn't why I'm reading it, although the plot is deftly enigmatic. I read it for the gut punching flavor.

Some books are hard to read because they describe a series of events painfully dryly, but it is easy to recall those events. Some are easy to read because one event is juiced to the Nth degree. Style may be the essence of everything.

Public Chatroom