Footfalls echo in the memory down the passage which we did not take towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden.
Everyone’s alone – or so it seems to me. They make noises, and think they are talking to each other; They make faces, and think they understand each other. And I’m sure that they don’t. Is that a delusion?
Do I dare disturb the universe? In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.