"[w]hat was any art but ... a sheath, a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining, elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose." - Willa Cather, Song of the Lark
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Aaaaaand with two more outs left in the top of the 9th, I can already hear the cars, honks, and cheers from the bars on Comm Ave.
I still can't quite get used to how late baseball games are played on the east coast...