Put one evening at dinner with chicken, Paul and their loves.
Suppose we talk, we laugh a lot and often strap.
Put that in the midst of words that follow, come back, overlap as often happens among us that together we are an ocean with many waves, then eventually something big to me lockup soul. Put
saying that I was playing a decisive concept of sharpness Bina me reveal a paradox. Put
I feel displaced, disoriented, perplexed.
Suppose then that sea of \u200b\u200bwaves converge on me to reshuffle the confused ideas. Put that if n'esca
Polle, as only his genius can do with a simple example of simple but full of power and poetry. And I, who in a moment I was having dropped sharply, muffled in my dreams, I find myself back up there to twirl in a sky more blue.
Put me to be thinking that it's not true that "talk about important things," the so-called "maximum systems, "must necessarily be a ball, a hard, dead serious engagement of the mind.
Suppose instead, as always happens between us in this beautiful evening has not done anything else. Yet everything seemed a game, crazy, laughing.
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