I was thinking about the sun
going down behind the mountains,
and the clouds parting,
and the moon rising.

I was thinking about death,
and about how I had looked at death,
and seen it for what it was,
saying, "We've done all that for nothing!"

Nothing was new. Over and over,
the same wretched patterns,
the same hopelessly
absurd uncertainties.

I had to keep moving, keep going.
I had no idea where I was,
what I was doing.
My heart was still heavy with grief.

My dear friend,
I have done wrong. I hope you'll forgive me.

Source: several short and long texts by Ursula K. LeGuin (1.4 MB)

Method: GPT-2 text generation, 75 samples 500 length temperature 0.5-1.0, cut up