339.
I'm overwhelmed with absolutely everything.
"It hurts. It hurts me that you're unhappy," she said softly.
He lit another cigarette, cleared his throat as if it were tight, and went on, "I suppose I could be philosophical and ask you back, as you've often asked me, What is 'happiness' anyway? And whatever it is, why do we think we're entitled to it? All that sort of talk, in which, incidentally, there's a good deal of sense. The fact is, Anna, I really don't know. I'm confused, I'm guilty and angry, although I don't know at whom. At the fates, perhaps? Or at myself? I should think that after all these years I could forget you-"
"It hurts. It hurts me that you're unhappy," she said softly.
He lit another cigarette, cleared his throat as if it were tight, and went on, "I suppose I could be philosophical and ask you back, as you've often asked me, What is 'happiness' anyway? And whatever it is, why do we think we're entitled to it? All that sort of talk, in which, incidentally, there's a good deal of sense. The fact is, Anna, I really don't know. I'm confused, I'm guilty and angry, although I don't know at whom. At the fates, perhaps? Or at myself? I should think that after all these years I could forget you-"