“Sadly, I swallowed my tea and stared at the crowd of second-rate elegance...”
“I stared at the phone and swallowed the piece of my heart that was lodged in my throat now.”
“I may not be a first-rate composer, but I am a first-class second-rate composer.”
“For a split second they stared at each other. A fleeting, lasting moment. One person noticing another person out of a whole crowd of strangers.”
“Who would then deny that when I am sipping tea in my tearoom I am swallowing the whole universe with it and that this very moment of my lifting the bowl to my lips is eternity itself transcending time and space?”
“I wonder if it's ok being a second-rate painter.”