William Saroyan

The deep song of man, the sly whisper of someone unseen but vaguely known, hurricane in the cornfield, a game of chess, hush the queen, the king, Karl Franz, black Titanic, Mr.

The deep song of man, the sly whisper of someone unseen but vaguely known, hurricane in the cornfield, a game of chess, hush the queen, the king, Karl Franz, black Titanic, Mr

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody.

LOVE
A LONG TIME AGO when I was eleven my mother and my father had a prolonged quarrel.

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody

A LONG TIME AGO when I was eleven my mother and my father had a prolonged quarrel.

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody.

A LONG TIME AGO when I was eleven my mother and my father had a prolonged quarrel.

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody