Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the ache in her heart. They concern us all. It seemed to them they could never have been really alive before, but only dimly anticipating existence. He was always in a state of semi-intoxication, but he was always gentle with me. But luncheon and dinners you will sit at my table. They struck her as cold and indifferent.
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