Freedom lies in being bold. when i get a little money, i buy books; and, if any is left, i buy food and clothes. it’s strange that words are so inadequate. yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words. in our struggle for freedom, truth is the only weapon we possess. If you do not tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people. the feeling of sunday is the same everywhere: heavy, melancholy, standing still. like when they say, ‘as it was in the beginning.