If Nothing Will Finally Survive

But I Think That Sometimes, When One's Behaved Like A Rather Second-rate Person, The Way I Did At Breakfast, Then In A Kind Of Self-destructive Shock One Goes And Does Something Really Second-rate. Almost As If To Prove It.

We All Want To Be Guilty, Because Guilt Is Power.

If Nothing Will Finally Survive Of Life Besides What Artists Report Of It, We Have No Right To Report What We Know To Be Lies.

Even When We Say Nothing Our Clothes Are Talking Noisily To Everyone Who Sees Us, Telling Them Who We Are, Where We Come From, What We Like To Do In Bed And A Dozen Other Intimate Things.

There Is A Peculiar Burning Odor In The Room, Like Explosives. The Kitchen Fills With Smoke And The Hot, Sweet, Ashy Smell Of Scorched Cookies. The War Has Begun.