Monday, March 31, 2008

Yet Again

But sometimes, if you are young enough, if you are lucky enough again to start over, to do it all once more, all of it, there is the pleasure, the pain.  

How can I, that girl standing there,
My attention fix
On Roman or on Russian
Or on Spanish politics?
Yet here's a travelled man that knows
What he talks about,
And there's a politician
That has read and thought,
And maybe what they say is true
Of war and war's alarms,
But O that I were young again
And held her in my arms!

W.B. Yeats, "Politics"

We are in Manhattan still, again. Glorious days, fantastic nights.

Here at the Oak Bar.

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