You paint the picture of your surroundings. Paint it beautifully.

burnt by the sunof your mouth, I__ unable to speak or paint you with words

He owned an expensive camera that required thought before you pressed the shutter, and I quickly became his favorite subject, round-faced, missing teeth, my thick bangs in need of a trim. They are still the pictures of myself I like best, for they convey that confidence of youth I no longer possess, especially in front of a camera.

I didn't mind what she called me, what anybody called me. But this was the room I had to live in. It was all I had in the way of a home. In it was everything that was mine, that had any association for me, any past, anything that took the place of a family. Not much: a few books, pictures, radio, chessmen, old letters, stuff like that. Nothing. Such as they were, they had all my memories.

Our bodies are simply our shells, the package for the spirit and the soul.

The spirit of arrogance most definitely makes you shine. It paints a bright red target on your own forehead.