Took awhile, but I could hear the sound changing as I went, so I stuck it out until it happened.
PS. That’s the bobbin case in the middle. It’s what holds the bobbin while it’s in the machine.
PPS. It’s so humid that the little watercolor is still wet in spots and damp in others.
In my most evil moments I was convinced that I was doing good, and I was well supplied with systematic arguments. It was only when I lay there on rotting prison straw that I sensed within myself the first stirrings of good. Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either—but right through every human heart—and through all human hearts
