The sun is a hammer. I can feel one side of my face start to cook. The blue sky is glossy and fat with heat, a few thin cirri sheared to blown strands like hair at the rims.
David Foster WallaceAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: February 21, 1962
- Died: December 12, 2008
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Beauty, midnight, vision dies: Let the winds of dawn that blow. Softly round your dreaming head. Such a day of welcome show. Eye and knocking heart may bless, Find our mortal world enough; Noons of dryness find you fed. By the involuntary powers, Nights of insult let you pass. Watched by every human love.
W. H. Auden