How lonely it is to live...wrote David Ignatow after his wife died.
Figure of Hermines Fastening his Sandal. (Lysippus. c 300B.C.) How lonely it is to live, What am I waiting for by living, in the morning especially, as I awaken to the silence of the trees? Do I think I can write myself out of this to form an other who will keep me company? That other is nothing... Sign in to see full entry.