What might be said of things in themselves, separated from all relationship to our senses, remains for us absolutely unknown
Immanuel KantAbout author
- Author's profession: Philosopher
- Nationality: deutsch
- Born: April 22, 1724
- Died: February 12, 1804
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All she saw, down in the cellar well beneath the stoop, was a light yellow feather with a tip of green. And she had never named him. Had called him "my parrot" all these years. "My parrot." "Love you. "Love you."Did the dogs get him? Or did he get the message - that she said, "My parrot" and he said, "Love you," and she had never said it back or even taken the trouble to name him - and manage somehow to fly away on wings that had not soared for six years.
Toni Morrison