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A batch of the best highlights from what Carla's read, .
Several blocks and a thousand years from the city’s ritzy nightclubs and theaters, a rind of moon sweated in the sky,
Beauty is a miracle of things going together imperfectly.
I have perceived that to be with those I like is enough, To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough, To be surrounded by beautiful curious breathing laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them . . to touch any one . . . to rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment . . . what is this then? I do not ask any more delight . . . I swim in it as in a
Leaves of Grass
Walt Whitman, American Renaissance Books
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