Leet that I am glad he found me in a pigeon hole of his memory, but that I am a long way from being "the blue-eyed bunch the weeknd single mischief" he describes. I knew you could get Jack out of his rut if you tried. The Browning evenings must be highly diverting, I the weeknd single imagine you reading a few lines for him to expound, then him reading a few for you to explain, then both gazing into space with "the infinite cry of finite hearts that yearn. How memories stab me as I think of him. It seems impossible to think of him as other than well and strong and self reliant.