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“What do we know of the man who passes us in the street? Do we notice his multitudes — the million masterpieces of his mind? There aren’t enough years to really know someone. He has already changed in the passing. Come, it is getting late. Let me share my infinite selves.” — Kamand Kojouri
What do we know of the man
who passes us in the street?
Do we notice his multitudes
— the million masterpieces of his mind?
There aren’t enough years to really know someone.
He has already changed in the passing.
Come, it is getting late.
Let me share my infinite selves.