The restaurant is an Inn as well

I am I am: yet what I am none cares or knows My friends forsake me like a memory lost, I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love's frenzied, stifled throes— And yet I am, and live—like vapors tossed Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems; Even the dearest, that I love the best, Are strange—nay, rather stranger than the rest. I long for scenes, where man hath never... full info

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